Deception and Dumb Luck
by dart53
Summary: Can the team use their skills and experience to uncover a spy?
1. Chapter 1

The usual disclaimer applies. No infringement of the copy write held by the rightful owners is intended and I derive no monetary gain from the story that follows.

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Deception and Dumb Luck

Garrison called the briefing in the library. All they had to do was talk. There were no maps, aerial photos, stolen documents or secret files to go over on this one. Not yet. Just two photos of the same young man.

"So what is it this time? They want us to fly over there and kidnap Hitler or somethin'?" Casino was pulling absently at the fabric on the arm of the sofa where he'd thrown himself.

"We're doing that next month, Casino, but it's supposed to be a secret." Garrison was standing in front of them, arms crossed on his chest. "But I think you'll like this one."

The safe cracker raised an eyebrow, interest causing a chink in his carefully crafted bored demeanor. "Yeah? Why's that?"

"No planes, parachutes, subs… Just a nice car ride, and a little time on the back of a truck."

"Hey! We got us a job right here in England?" Leaning forward on his elbows Goniff grinned up at the Warden. He didn't like subs, or jumping out of airplanes anymore than Casino but he usually let the other man do the complaining for both of them.

"That's right." Garrison couldn't help smiling back at the cockney thief.

"Doin' what?" Chief asked from his usual place near the windows.

"Two nights ago they found this man with technical info on a new radar system he had no reason to have." Garrison handed the photos to Goniff who studied them before passing them off to Casino. "They want to know how he got it."

"Why don't they just ask him…nicely?" The second story man thought he knew the answer and it made working at home a little less appealing.

"They can't" Garrison finally settled himself in one of the chairs. "He's dead."

"Figures." Casino snorted as he passed the photo of the dead man to Chief.

The young man glanced at the face in the photographs and walked them across to Actor. "So what'd they want us to do about it?"

"Corporal Warren Mitchell worked on base where they're testing that new equipment. We're going to go up there and try to find out who's been passing information."

Actor turned from studying the books that rested on the shelves along the walls of the room, he took the photos and committed the face to memory before looking up to catch Garrison's eye. "Surely he didn't just carry the files away with him. How was he transporting the information?"

"They found a small antique book on him. The information was on film hidden in the binding."

The tall Italian crossed the room and folded himself into an arm chair that sat near the sofa. "The military usually handles these kinds of cases themselves, why are they sending us?"

Garrison shrugged. "I guess they figure we have a better chance of spotting the bad guys since we've been known to do this sort of thing ourselves."

"Kind of a 'takes one to know one' kind a thing?" Goniff chimed in. "So they don't think he was workin' alone?"

"No." Garrison gave a quick shake of his head. "He wasn't up there long enough. There has to be at least one other person maybe more. If we can find them, they want us to try and trace the information to the other end. If there's a network working up there we need to know about it."

"How'r we gonna do it?" Chief moved to stand behind Casino and waited for Garrison's plan.

"You and Casino will be assigned to the base. Goniff's going to work in the town outside, and I'm going up as an advisor."

"What about Beautiful here?" Casino waived his hand towards Actor. "What's he gonna be up to?"

"Actor, I want you to go through this guy's record. Everything they've got on him. See if you can spot anything intelligence might have missed that would make him susceptible to something like this" Garrison tossed the file to his second.

"When do we leave?"

"Couple of days." The Warden said with a shrug. "As soon as the paperwork's ready."

Casino laughed. "It's taken' them a couple a days! Cross the channel it'd only take a couple hours."

Garrison nodded his agreement. "Well Casino, they have to come up with complete backgrounds and military files on all of us in case the guys we're after can access military personnel records. That's not too hard for me, but it's taking some time on the rest of you."

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"Look Colonel, I know you don't really want me to do this, but I feel I have to. I don't trust the brass to honor this arrangement anymore than the men do. I'll go over your head if I have to, sir, but I'd rather have your cooperation and backing on this." Garrison and Reynolds were waiting in the Colonels' office for the final paperwork to come through on the mission, and Garrison had taken the opportunity to present him with the reports and requests he'd been working on over the last few weeks.

"I understand Lieutenant. I'll see to it these get to the proper departments." Reynolds accepted the sheaf of papers and slid them into a large envelope that he settled in the top drawer of his desk. If he hadn't worked with these men personally he'd be turning the papers out into the trash receptacle as soon as the meeting with the Lieutenant was over, but he understood why the young officer was so determined. He'd been on the ground in Europe with these men and knew how capable they were, and had seen first hand the bond of loyalty and respect that had formed within the group. He didn't believe the commitment to these men would be honored either, but at least he'd try and see the reports and requests that might prick at commands' conscience, if they had one, would go through.

There was a tap on the door and it swung open admitting a young clerk holding a file. "Here they are sir! Hot off the presses."

Garrison accepted the papers with a nod and started going through them checking to see that they matched the story that had been worked out. "It looks like it's all in order." Looking over at his superior he asked. "Have they cleared a contact on base yet?"

"Not at this time. We don't know who's involved in this or how high up it may go. We can't take the chance. It's being left to your discretion, but if you feel the need to take someone into your confidence you are to contact me. We'll check them out, thoroughly for you, before you do."

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"Alright, we've got our papers and orders." Garrison handed copies of the personnel records that had been developed to the men. "I want you guys to read through all of this and get to know it. You'll probably be answering questions up on the base."

"How come?" The youngest member of the team asked as he flipped through his paperwork. "We gotta do some kind a interview to get the jobs?"

"No, you've got the jobs." The Lieutenant laughed. "But you'll need to fit in and there's nothing more interesting to a bored serviceman than a replacement."

"I can think of a couple a things that might be more interesting!" Casino contributed with a knowing leer, causing the others to laugh.

The Warden nodded solemnly in Casinos' direction, "I stand corrected." and waited while they settled down, addressing Casino and Chief. "Your papers say you're coming straight out of basic in the States, so you won't have to come up with any war stories."

"But we got those!" The little cat burglar protested.

Casino fixed the pick pocket with a sarcastic stare. "Nothin' we can use, dummy!"

"They've also got you coming from your own home towns so you won't have to study up on that, and they've got you two shipping over together. That'll make it more likely you'll be housed together on base." The Warden indicated the files each man held with a nod. "And you'd better read each others files. You'll be expected to know something about each other by now. We lucked out, the base has already put in for some replacements so you'll be going up with them."

"So what'r we gonna be doin'?"

"We had to work with the positions that needed to be filled on base so you're going in as a mechanic and driver, and Casino as part of the guard detail." He caught the safe cracker's frown as he considered all that marching back and forth. "Sorry I couldn't come up with anything more glamorous, but neither of you qualify as a pilot or bombardier. You guys better study up fast, you ship out in the morning." Turning on the cockney "Goniff you're going up by car this afternoon. I just want you to look for work. Anything you can find in the town will be fine. Oh, and you busted an ear drum when you were a kid, so you're not eligible for military service. You're deaf in one ear."

Leaning forward with a hand cupped around his right ear Goniff asked "What's that Warden?"

"Very good. Just see to it you remember which ear's bad."

"How is the mans death being accounted for?" Actor asked.

"Easiest thing is to stick with the truth. He died when his car went off the road and caught fire. Ah,,, they're leaving out the bit about finding the film on him. As far as anyone's concerned it's all just a tragic accident."

"So how'd they tumble to this bloke passin' secrets anyway?"

"Just plain dumb luck Goniff." Garrison shook his head. If there hadn't been an accident, or the fire had been worse, no one would have known about this leak. "His car really did go off the road and catch fire. When they were taking the body out somebody noticed the book and found the film hidden inside."

"When'r you gonna be up there?"

"I have to report on Wednesday." Garrison caught the gleam that came into the little thief's eye. "That'll give you guys' time to settle in and have a look around. Try and stay out of trouble, will you? There won't be any connection between us so I won't be able to pull you out of the stockade or talk you away from the local police."

"Lieutenant! Have we ever let you down?" Goniff turned to the others with mock indignation as Garrison arched a brow and walked out of the room. As the door swung closed behind him Goniff grinned at the other three. "This is great! I got an uncle up there. I think I'll try and look him up before the Warden gets there." But his face fell as a voice drifted back through the closed door from somewhere down the hall.

"I said I had to report to the base on Wednesday Goniff, I didn't say anything about when I'd be up there."

Goniff frowned at the closed door for a moment scratching his chin before turning to look at Chief with a shake of his head. "You know, me Mum could always do that too."

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Casino had been trying to talk his way off the grounds, or at least onto the phone before they took off. "But I promised her…"

"I understand that Casino, but that's why sometimes it's not good to get involved with…"

"Because I could buy it on one of these little escapades of yours?"

"Well I was thinking more about how often we have to change our plans at the last minute because they've handed us a mission, but, yes, that could happen." They'd just been given an assignment and the rules were no movement of information or personnel on or off the estate. There was a good reason for that rule and they both knew it, and as much as Garrison hated to consider it, there was a chance every time they went out that someone might not be coming back.

Casino had thought about that when he'd made this decision. He'd written to his family about it before he'd ever brought the subject up to Garrison, and he still hadn't said a word to the fellas about it. He just hated to go off without a word. What if something did happen? "Well it doesn't matter, 'cause I told my family all about her and they'd still want her. I just need to know we could get her over there."

Garrison watched him pace the room and hoped he was making the right decision. There were still official hurdles to clear before this could be approved, and there were no guarantees. "I'll look into it for you. If you're sure."

"I'm sure Warden." Casino stopped his prowling and grinned back at his commander. "She's the one."

The Lieutenant returned the man's smile, mentally crossing his fingers that they could pull this off. "Alright, I'll have Rawlins take care of it while we're gone. If you're lucky he'll have all the paperwork ready for you when we get back."

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They'd been packing, more of a chore for Goniff and Actor since they'd be using civilian clothes and gear, the Army had provided everything for the other two and it was already folded away in their lockers, all they had to do was transfer them to the car. The cockney thief was just finishing up, and rather than think of all the things that might go wrong on this latest job he preferred to concentrate on when it was all over, and they were back on the estate, triumphant, and cleared for a night or two of fun. "Come on, Casino! We all know you're sneaking out of here and meetin' up with a bird down in town. Now you can't go forgettin' your mates like that. You ought to find out if she's got some chums for the rest of us."

Stretched out on his bunk watching the other men work, Casino grinned back "Well, you know I been tryin' to arrange that, but the Warden's kinda gettin' in the way."

"Really?!" They'd been on the prowl together in town before, but this new girl, he'd kept her all to himself. This must be serious. Goniff was glad for him and happy they were finally going to get a chance to meet her. The possibility of a night in the company of one of her friends wasn't exactly hard to swallow either. But any further information he was going to get on the girl, or her friends, would have to wait, as the Wardens shouted announcement cut across his questions.

"Come on! Hustle it up you guys. The car's here."

Garrison had decided against sending Goniff up on his own. It wasn't that he didn't trust him to stay out of trouble, which he didn't, he just didn't like any of them being on their own without back up if he could help it. The operation was running here in England where they wouldn't have to worry about the language or firing squads but that didn't make it any less dangerous. He watched them come down stairs and shepherded them out onto the steps at the front of the building. "Alright as soon as you guys get settled up there send your location to the mail drop. And" he made eye contact with his cat burglar, speaking slowly and clearly, "stay out of trouble."

"Now Warden, what makes you think I'd be getting into any trouble?" Goniff placed his right hand on his chest and asked the question with a fair attempt at wounded dignity.

"Let's see, Goniff, I think it had something to do with a snuff box…. Besides I need you to keep an eye on Actor."

"What!?" The con man snorted in shock as the others laughed. They all knew he was at greater risk than the rest of them of running afoul of the locals. His cover was good and while there were hundreds of people from the occupied countries working with the Allies here in England some of them were still looked on with distrust, especially in the smaller communities outside London. Garrison would be glad when they were all in place up there and he knew where they were and how to reach them. He watched the car pull out. Actor would arrive in town in style, but the con man would drop Goniff off several miles away to make the final leg in on one of the local buses.

"OK you guys, throw your stuff in the back and let's get out of here." He was taking the other two to the assembly point across London himself. They'd be billeted there over night and then loaded on trucks that would make their way through the countryside, dropping men and supplies at bases along the way. Garrison would be worrying about these two until they got to their assignments. Air defense over England was good, but it was still all too common for German fighters and bombers to get through, and if they were spotted convoys were prime targets. This was going to be a long thirty-six hours.

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"So where is this Tohatchi place?" Casino had been pumping Chief for more information and he was beginning to wish he'd packed a pair of pliers or a stick of dynamite in with his gear.

"New Mexico." came the monotone reply.

"Great! Well at least I know the state now. _**WHERE**_is it, _**what's**_it like, _**when'd**_you leave there? Jeeze! Didn't you hear the Warden? We're 'spose to know somethin' about each other." All this time, Casino thought, and this is the first I heard anything about New Mexico. "Look, kid, you got me cold. Somebody asks you a question and you'r gonna make a pretty good showing. Me? I got nothin'"

Chief thought about what the Warden had said. And Casino was right, they all knew almost everything about him, mostly because he found it hard to shut up! If they did get some questions he was gonna have to answer them somehow, he might as well practice on Casino and put him out of his misery. "Alright. It's on the border, over by Arizona. It's dry, and my grandfather used to say you could watch the sun go down from the top a the mesa on one side, and turn to see it come up on the other side 'cause we could see so far. You can travel all day and see, maybe three or four other people. My grandfathers' place was there, that's where I was born… I stayed there 'til I was ten."

That was the most information he'd ever gotten out of the Indian in one sitting. Casino didn't know if he'd be pushing his luck, but he thought it might be worth it to ask another question now that there seemed to be a crack in the dam. "You live with your granddad or just in the same neighborhood?"

The young man laughed before he could stop himself. Casino really didn't have any idea of what lay outside the big east coast cities. "No neighborhoods, Casino. I think the next place was probably four, five miles away, off in another little canyon. See there's no water, so people have to spread out. 'Sides we don't like livin' right on top a one another like you guys do."

"No wonder you don't talk. You never had anyone to talk to!"

"Oh I talk. When I have somethin' to say."

"Well…? Come on then, now ya got started." Casino leaned his elbow on the table and watched the young man decide.

Why not? What was it Goniff said,,, 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' He settled his arms more comfortably on the table and played with the spoon he'd left in his coffee cup. They'd eaten their meal and had found a corner to themselves. No one seemed interested in getting to know anyone else, not if they were going to be dropped off at different bases in the morning. OK, Chief thought, here goes "We lived with my mothers parents. My dad didn't have anybody. He kinda worked where ever he could 'til he got in with an oil and gas drillin' company. When they told him he'd have to move if he wanted to keep workin' for 'em he went. 'Bout six months later he sent for my mother, and she went. I was seven, I think."

"They left you there 'til you were ten?" Being taken care of by family was nothing new to Casino, but being separated from his folks as a kid was. Even after Joey died and his parents had been so tied up in their grief that he and the two older kids had to run things with the help of his uncles, they were there with them. They didn't just leave them with some relative and walk off.

"Yeah." He continued to stare down in to the cup, remembering. "But it wadn't so bad. We always had stuff to do. He ran sheep, had a couple a horses and some dogs around. He taught me to find food and water out there, to lay traps and how to hunt,,, well, rabbits." Chief smiled to himself thinking how many times when they were living rough on a job the others complained about the rabbits he'd brought them. "I was a little young for anything bigger. We grew corn and squash and beans 'n stuff down along the river."

"River? I thought you said there weren't any rivers where you come from?" That he did remember. That's why the kid had to learn how to handle a raft just like the rest of them. 'Course, if it was some kinda outdoor stuff he took to it real fast.

Chief looked up at the other man and smiled. "Oh it was there, it just didn't have water in it most a the time. When the rains would come the Red Willow'd flood, and that was the only water the crops would get, unless we watered them by hand with buckets. That took a lot a time!"

As different as it was from his own world it was obvious the guy had liked it out there. Casino wondered what kind of life he'd be living now if he had stayed. "Your folks take you outta there when you were ten?"

"Yeah. My grandmother died 'bout a year after my mother left. When the old guy got sick he sent her a letter and told her to come home 'cause he was dyin'. She didn't come 'til he was real bad. When he died we couldn't use the house anymore so we left to go find my old man."

"What'd ya mean, you couldn't use the house? Some other relative or landlord put you out or somethin'?" He knew about stuff like that. The guy down the block from his folks did that to his own sister. The old folks died and he put her right out on the street so he could sell the place.

"No, Casino, nothin' like that." It was hard explaining stuff he really didn't understand himself. "He died inside the house, so we couldn't use it anymore."

The only reason the safe cracker could figure for that would be some kinda real bad disease. "He die a plague or somethin'?"

Chief took a deep breath and tried to tell it right. "He died inside, so his bad spirit couldn't go free. It was trapped there in the house. You don't use a place like that again 'cause it can make you sick. You don't go inside a place like that."

Great! More witch stuff. "But he was your granddad! There wasn't nothing' evil about him was there?" Casino had never thought much about grandparents being evil until he'd heard about the Wardens. If Chief's was bad too…

"'Course he wadn't evil! But we all got bad things inside us. Good things and bad things. When you die you need to be outside so the bad stuff can take off. If you trap those things in a building they stay there. The people knock holes in the walls a places like that, to let the bad stuff out, but some of it sticks around… At least that's what the old people say. It's what he believed." And that's why Acheii wouldn't go to the hospital, Chief thought, to many people dyin' in one building, too many bad spirits. He was scrawny as a kid and hadn't been strong enough to pull him out under the open sky, and he couldn't make himself leave him in there all alone, even after he died, so he'd just sat in there beside the old mans' body until his mother came back from the sheep that night. She'd never looked at him the same after that, didn't seem to want him around. When he'd started getting into trouble she didn't even try and stop him, just said she didn't expect nothin' different outta him.

The safe cracker watched as the younger man remembered, then asked quietly. "So, did you ever go back there?"

"Yeah. I went back after my mother died. I found the place." Chief stared off towards the other side of the room, but he wasn't seeing where they were now, he was back in that little canyon, backed up against the red cliffs looking out across the flats and mesas. "I hung around there for a couple a days. I just never could make myself go back into that house." He looked at Casino and shook his head. "I don't think I believe in ghosts or anything, and I done a lot a stuff he'd a figured was wrong, but I just couldn't make myself go in there. I don't know why… Stupid, I guess."

Casino watched him for a minute before he said anything, and then he surprised both of them. "No it wasn't stupid. You were just honorin' his memory and what he believed in, that's all. That wasn't stupid."

Chief looked away, but Casino thought he caught a slight smile. "Ah,,, where'd you go after that?"

"L.A."

Jeeze! "AND?"

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"You need a lift, sir?" The Brit NCO asked as he brought the jeep to a stop next to the Lieutenant.

"Are you following me Sergeant Major Rawlins?" He'd gone out for a run and was leaning against a large tree out at the edge of the estate waiting for the cramp in his side to give up so he could finally catch his breath.

"No sir… Well, yes sir." He eyed the young man critically. These young officers didn't have sense sometimes and needed looking after. "You shouldn't be pushing so 'ard yet, you know. You aren't over that last one."

"Can it, Gil. I've already got Riley and Actor telling me what to do I don't need you singing that song too. What's this?" He reached out and picked up the mail that lay on the seat next to the Sergeant.

"Just came in, sir. I thought it'd give me a good excuse to drive out and pick you up."

Garrison shook his head as he climbed in and the jeep took off. Just what he needed, another mother hen. He tore the first envelope open and scanned the contents. "Actor and Goniff are in position." He'd heard from Reynolds and knew the convoy had made it through safely, he'd just been waiting for this telegram to know how to contact the other two. The way it was worded it appeared they'd found lodging in the same place. That would simplify things. The contents of the next envelope caused him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. That was fast! Acknowledgment of the reports he'd sent through Reynolds with a promise his requests would be considered. It was about time these guys got the recognition they deserved. "Sergeant I'm going to need certified copies of this one, can you manage that?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good I want you to send them out for me. I've got the addresses for you up in my quarters." They'd pulled to a stop in front of the broad steps that led up to the mansion. "I'll meet you in my office after I've changed."

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"Sergeant Major if anything else comes through while I'm gone I want you to copy it, send it out to the addresses I've given you, and put the originals in there."

"Yes, sir. I don't think the lads know about this one yet." They were sliding the large desk the Lieutenant used back over the safe that had been installed in the floor. They always left it in position on the carpet so it wouldn't leave scratches on the floor and there'd be no mismatched depressions in the carpet pile to give them away. It was quieter this way too. The chairs were moved aside to set in front of the long sofa and then each one of them took up a corner of the rug and pulled. As soon as the heavy desk started to move it was a simple matter to pull it out of the way. It was going to be a bit trickier to do on his own, but he'd tried it, under the Lieutenants' watchful eye.

"I don't think they do either." They shared a moment of amusement that turned quickly serious as Garrison turned to the British NCO with a request. "Gil, if anything should happen… I want you to see to it they get any paperwork that's in their files in this safe. Will you do that?"

"Of course, sir, I'll see to it. But nothing's going to…"

"Thanks Sergeant, but I don't need your reassurance, I just need to know it'll be taken care of if I can't do it,,, for any reason. They're going to need this stuff if I'm not around Gil, dead, missing, or just hurt bad enough that they could be shipped home before I came out of it. Have I got you word on it?" As the man solemnly nodded his agreement, he reached out and they shook hands. "Good! Have them bring the car around. I've got to get up there before they have a chance to get into too much trouble."


	2. Chapter 2

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"What can I get you Lieutenant?" Garrison had come up a day early and stopped off in the town that sat just outside the base, the question came from the brand new barman. Goniff had found a good spot, a job with lodgings in a place everyone was sure to gather.

"Roddy! I'll take care of him, luv. The taps gone dry again! Would you go down and see to it?" She smiled down at him as Goniff moved off to do her bidding. "You're staying with us, aren't you? What can I bring you?"

"Yes Ma'am, just over night, and the pub lunch would be fine. If he gets that tap going again I'll have a pint to go with it. And could you add it to the bill for the room, please?"

"You're in number ten at the back? Sure, luv, I'll tack it on for you."

Her voice carried to the corner and Actor raised his glass as he made fleeting eye contact. He was upstairs near the front of the building where he could keep an eye on the street and hear what was going on down in the pub. He'd be able to see the Warden when he came up to go to his rooms.

"Garrison!?" The loud voice was raised from a knot of officers gathered around a table near the back of the room and followed by a large dark haired captain that stalked across to stand over the Lieutenant as he sat at his table. Actor was immediately on alert and watched as the two confronted each other. "Last I heard they tried to court-martial you for cowardice under fire. Too bad they couldn't make it stick."

Garrison leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms crossed over his chest. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the man. "If you know about that Patrick, you know the charges didn't 'stick' because they weren't true." His tone was casual but there was an edge to his voice.

"They just brought you up on the wrong charges. Don't worry they'll figure you out sooner or later. Aren't you in the habit of standing and saluting a superior officer, Lieutenant?"

He was still officially on leave and out of uniform as he sat there in shirtsleeves, and they both knew it. "I'll salute a superior officer Virgil, soon as I see one." The other man narrowed his eyes in anger before he turned on his heel and made his way back to his companions. Garrison recognized the patch on the mans' flight jacket. Virgil Patrick was assigned to the group flying out of the airfield where they'd be working. Great! That was all he needed.

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"It appears you've met that gentleman before." Actor was sitting at the small table in the rooms Garrison had taken at the pub. It was after one in the morning, they hadn't been able to get together any earlier as the pub was a popular gathering place. "Is he going to pose a problem for you on base?"

The Lieutenant ran his hand through his hair and sat rubbing the back of his neck, "He might."

"I guess he doesn't like you much, eh mate?" Goniff had caught the end of the exchange as he climbed back up into the pub after fixing the taps.

Garrison looked across at the little thief, his mouth quirked up in a smile. "The feeling's mutual."

The con man sat back nursing his pipe, "Can you have him reassigned?"

"Probably. But it would take time and it would disrupt the crew he flies with. Maybe it won't be necessary."

Goniff was toying with a small crystal tray that had been on the dresser, the sort of thing people put their change or jewelry in when they went to bed. When he caught the look the Warden was giving him he put it carefully back where he'd found it. "Uh, where'd you know him from, anyway?"

Garrison shook his head and continued to eye Goniff as he answered. "Virgil Patrick was two years ahead of me at West Point."

"Did he trouble you there, as well?" Actor considered the man was probably the type to resent Garrisons' standing at the academy. He'd seen the records and knew the Lieutenant had come first in all of his classes. Envy could cause bitterness and dislike, but that loud voice had been laced with hatred.

"A certain amount of hazing is tradition at the Point, but Virgil and his crowd raised it to an art form. They were especially hard on those of us who didn't fit their ideal of who should be attending."

"You mean he's a moneyed snob?" Goniff asked amazed that the social cast system worked its magic even at America's military academy.

"It's more than that. He comes from an old family. He's got ancestors in the military clear back to the Revolution. If he found out a cadet was from an immigrant family he made it pretty tough on them."

"So just 'cause a your Mum…?"

"My father too, Goniff, he was French. He went to the States to go to school and joined the Army when the first war was declared. They gave him his citizenship when he enlisted. According to them that was bad enough, but when Patricks' crowd found out my mother was German, well, it just made it worse."

Actor didn't like the sound of the man at all. "I'll see to it Reynolds knows about him, but you have to find a way to tell Chief and Casino as soon as you can. You may need protection from him on base."

"Right!,,, and stay out of his way."

Garrison didn't want to think what he'd gone through at the hands of Virgil Patrick and his followers could jeopardize their operation but having the man on base certainly put it at greater risk. He promised them, but they could both see the possibilities presenting themselves in his mind. Maybe there was a way they could use the mans' hatred and suspicion to their advantage.

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"I think we oughta take the guy out. He's too dangerous." Chief didn't like the idea of any extra threat being added in to this job.

Garrison shook his head, "No. I think we might be able to use him."

"How?" Casino didn't like it either. They already had to worry about spies for cryin' out loud. Why add some jerk with some kind a superiority complex and a grudge to the mix?

"Just think about it a minute. If somebody up here recruited Mitchell to carry that information, someone who's already being bad mouthed might be pretty interesting to them."

"So you think they'll come after you 'cause a somethin' this joker might spout off?"

"They might. Sure puts the stamp of outsider and outcast on me. Just the kind of guy that might get involved in something like this. And if they hear that Mother was German and I was raised over there, they might think my loyalties could be questionable." He'd kept his promise to Actor and arranged this meeting with Chief and Casino as soon as he'd arrived on base. It was easy enough, all he had to do was stop and ask a guard for directions to his quarters, the guard just happened to be Casino. "Actor's letting Reynolds know about him. He'll be able to pull him out of here pretty fast if things get too hot. But for right now we leave him where he is. You guys better get to your quarters before lights out. Can't have you getting into trouble too soon."

Chief laughed in the shadows. "Casino's already taken care of that."

"Shut up Indian." came the growled retort.

Already! Just great! He couldn't leave these guys alone for a minute. "What? What'd you do?"

"Nothin' I'll tell you about it later…Jeeze! We don't have time right now, lights out, remember?"

Garrison laid a restraining hand on Casino's arm. "Wait a minute,,, you find out anything about Mitchell yet?"

"Yeah. He was pretty heavy into the gambling here on base. Dropped a bundle the week before he bought it."

"Uh huh." The Warden had a pretty good idea of what kind of trouble the safecracker had managed to find so fast. As he watched the two head out across the grounds to their quarters he considered that new information too.

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"Sir! I tell you he's a Kraut from the boots up. He was even raised over there!"

"But he's a US citizen, Patrick. He was born in the States, and he's an officer in the US Army. They wouldn't have let him in if there was anything to worry about in his back ground."

"You call having a Kraut for a mother and a Hitler supporter for a granddaddy 'nothing to worry about'? My father found out all about him when we were at the Point together, sir. That guy's trouble!"

"That proves it then, doesn't it Captain?" The Major didn't like this man, he was an arrogant son of a bitch who thought you could only be an American if you were one of the first families to arrive. And he was building himself a little following among some of the young officers. If he could have his way about it, the jackass would be shipped off for some other base to worry about. "If that information was turned over to the authorities and they still let him through, he must be OK."

Patrick stopped arguing. Major Lindmann would never act on his suspicions, never take him seriously. Besides," he thought grimly, " he knew what his background was. Shake his family tree and half of them that fell out would stand up and spout German. He'd have to watch Garrison himself. Get enough on him that he couldn't get out of it this time. He'd see if his father could get hold of his records again, and made a bet with himself that they'd be washed clean of all those close ties to the 'Fatherland'.

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"Colonel Reynolds, sir?"

Reynolds leaned forward and pressed the button on the intercom. "Yes, Sergeant, what is it?"

"I've just had a message from records, sir. Someone's requested Lieutenant Garrisons file."

They'd considered the possibility that the files would be checked, but not openly. Reynolds brow furrowed, what in the devil could this mean? "And who put in that request Sergeant?"

"Major General Wilford Patrick, sir."

The Colonel drummed his fingers on the desk. Staring down at the message Actor had sent through on another man named Patrick. Reynolds tried to come up with a valid reason the General might need Garrisons' records before he answered. "Send out the modified file Sergeant, and ring through to General Fremont"

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"Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Garrison. He's been sent up here so we can pick his brains." Colonel Husoe waited for the smattering of laughter to die down. "He's been on the ground over there, and the big wigs thought getting his perspective might help us hit those targets we've been missing." There wasn't a mission on but Husoe wanted the group to get a chance to meet this young man. He'd heard about Captain Patrick's visit to Major Lindmann too, and wanted to give the young officer a chance to air that, if he wanted to. He was actually kind of interested in how he'd handle that. "He's also a qualified pilot, but I guess he's developed some sort of bizarre fondness for blisters, because he chooses to remain on the ground." Turning to the young man who sat just behind him he asked. "Would you care to explain yourself, Lieutenant?"

Garrison stood as the Colonel took his seat. "I don't think I can, sir," that earned him a bit of laughter from the crowd, "but I'll answer any questions if anyone has any."

"What're you doing on the ground over there, Lieutenant, you one a those cloak and dagger types?"

"Well, I suppose I wouldn't be able to tell you if I was, but no Lieutenant, I was raised in Germany until I was thirteen. We did a fair amount of traveling then, and I got a chance to go back right before the war started." Right to the point, that question came from Lieutenant Andrew Crossman who was sitting right next to Captain Patrick. The young man was stocky, blonde, and had the arrogant sneer Garrison had seen all too often clothed in an SS uniform.

"You sure you're not a spy, Lieutenant? I understand you speak real good Kraut." Patrick crossed his arms on his chest and glanced at the small group of young men that sat around him.

"I'm sure Captain. And yes I speak German, you'll find a lot of us in the service do. If you scare me awake in the middle of the night you might hear some of it, and my men'll tell you if you make me mad enough I sure know how to swear in it. It's been an advantage to know on more than one occasion, especially on the ground." Thank you Captain Virgil Patrick, he thought, at least I won't have to wait for you to spread it around through the rumor mill.

"So how do you think you'll be able to help us hit our targets?" The young man sitting in the front row had that , here's another know-it-all-expert look on his face.

"I don't claim that I can, but I can tell you what the territory those aerial photos show is really like on the ground. How deep the valleys are, which way the prevailing winds blow. That sort of thing. I guess I'm not the only one they've sent out, there are others on other bases, and there will be other people, people who lived over there, coming to talk to you. I was available though, and I think the brass figured that since I'm a pilot we'd speak the same language. So I'm it, until your real experts' get in here."

"How come you're available, Garrison? You run away from your last command?"

Patrick again. He heard Colonel Husoe shift in his seat and start to growl a warning but cut him off with his answer. "I'm just off medical leave, Captain. As soon as I finish up here I'll be reassigned." The muttering from most of the men in the room told him Patrick was not well liked and didn't have the following he probably thought he had, just the little knot that sat around him, probably the same men who were in the pub the other day.

"Alright, gentlemen." Husoe got up from his chair and stepped in front of Garrison. "This is all informal. The maps and photos are going to be available for you whenever you like, so if you have questions for our friend here, Major Lindmann will get you what you need. And, as rank has it privilege I'm taking him first. Dismissed." As the men stood to leave he called over their heads. "Captain Patrick, I'll want you in my office at Oh seven-hundred."

They waited for the room to clear and then Husoe motioned Garrison to follow him. Nothing was said as they crossed over to the Colonels' office through the thick fog that had descended on the base that afternoon, but as soon as the door was closed the man turned. "Sorry about him. I inherited him when I took this place over. He's a jerk but he's a good pilot."

Garrison smiled back, "Yes, sir. And his daddy's a general."

Husoe hung his head and laughed. "Yeah! Well there is that." Crossing the office he opened a cabinet, pulled out two glasses and tipped a measure of clear liquid from a decanter into both . Handing one to the Lieutenant he cautioned. "Watch out for this stuff, it's wicked," before taking a sip and sliding into the chair behind his desk. He looked up and studied the man that had taken the chair opposite him and wondered what he was really doing up here on his base... "If it makes you feel any better Lieutenant, my folks are Norwegian and he doesn't like me either. How'd you know about his father?"

Garrison took a sip from the glass and shrugged as the liquor burned it's way down his throat, when he could breathe again he answered. "Patrick was ahead of me at West Point."

The Colonel grimaced. "That must have been a great experience. How far ahead."

"Two years, sir." His voice was slightly hoarse, and he coughed a bit on the last word, Husoe didn't seem to notice.

"Well, at least you didn't have to go the whole way with him. That's something anyway. And son, when you're drinking with me, you don't have to call me sir."

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Casino and Chief had been on base almost three days and still didn't have a lead on how Mitchell had gotten the information that had been found on him. Of course they could only get so far asking questions about 'that guy that bought it in the car wreck'. Mitchell, from what they could find out, was well thought of, even if he wasn't very out going. He'd worked over in the meteorology section, was good at his job, and had only been on base two months before his death. The only trouble he got in, if it could even be counted as trouble, was the gambling. He was a regular and usually broke even, until the last game. He'd lost all his money in that one.

Garrison had been hampered by the almost constant presence of Patrick or one of his cronies since he'd arrived on the base. It seemed wherever he went one of them was somewhere in the vicinity, watching. It was making it impossible to communicate with the other two. The weather had been lousy over the channel too. That left the pilots and flight crews free to ask him for information about the places they'd been trying to hit. No one questioned him too closely on when he'd been in the area they were interested in and he didn't volunteer that. Depending on the target, it may have been only a matter of weeks or months since he'd been on the ground near or even in the objective.

He'd wandered out to the field that fronted the hangers to watch some of the men play ball. There was a keen rivalry between the motor pool and the guard detail, and the game had just ended with the motor pool up by two runs thanks to their newest member. He waited for the crowd to thin out so he could congratulate the young man. "Looks like you could have a job after all this is over… You're good."

"Hey! I thought you said you never played ball, kid."

Chief shook his head. "I never said that, Pappy. I said I didn't like to play."

"How can you not like to play when you'r so damn good at it." Casino's voice held a note of disgust. "I should a known from the darts you'd be able to hit the ball,,, but so far!"

"You loose some money Casino?" The younger man asked in amusement.

"Well a course I lost money!" he grouched. "I could hardly bet against my own team, could I?"

The crowd was gone, the men heading to the mess tent for the evening meal, and they were left alone in the shade of a large storage building. Garrison scanned the area for his constant companion and found him lounging against one of the fuel tankers. He could watch them all he wanted, at least he was far enough away that he couldn't over hear them. "We need to come up with a way to meet that won't disturb my shadow too much. Any ideas?"

"Well, some of the guys run, out here around the fence line or along the runway." Chief ran on the estate and so did Garrison. When the Warden's schedule allowed it they ran together to stay in condition, there was an undercurrent of competitiveness in those runs. "I even seen some officer types out here. 'Course it's all flat" he added with a hint of a smile. "Not much of a challenge."

'OK, you're on. First thing in the morning. You can pass any information along to Casino when you see him in the barracks." He'd been toying with the ball and tossed it back to Chief as he turned to go. "It was a good game. I better not hang around here. I don't want to get them suspicious of you two. See you in the morning."

They waited for Garrison to move off, watching as his shadow fell in behind him, before they started across the compound to the mess tent. Casino turned to Chief and raised a questioning eyebrow. "There's gonna be another game tomorrow. You wouldn't wanna put a bet down for me, would ya?"

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Chief had been out for about fifteen minutes before the Warden showed up and started to warm up for his run. He decided to sprint to the end of the run way and pick him up on the way back. He came abreast of Garrison just as he was passing the control tower and fell into step with him. "Don't see your friends anywhere, you give 'em the slip?"

"I don't think they have anyone posted on my door. Once they find out I'm into early morning exercise we might have some company."

"That guy yesterday didn't look like he was really into this kinda thing. He looked a little soft." Chief had slowed a little to pick Garrison up, and he was puzzled that they hadn't picked up the pace. Even at a decent speed back on the estate they'd been able to talk, the rhythm of their foot steps and the fact that they were concentrating on the ground ahead had made it easier, especially for him, and he'd found himself telling the Warden things, stuff he'd never told the other guys. This was bothering him, compared to their normal speed they were practically walking. "You OK, Lieutenant?"

"I'm supposed to be slow, I just came off medical leave, remember?"

"Yeah?" Chief shot a look at the other man along his shoulder. "Well your actin's getting better, you don't look so good," and he slowed down a little bit more.

Garrison chose to ignore the observation. "What did you guys find out about Mitchell?" As he listened to the meager facts they'd managed to gather together he found he was struggling a bit to keep up with the young man. When he'd heard all they had found out the next question came out short, clipped. "Just gambling?"

"S'the only thing we've come up with so far. Even that's not really out a line for this place."

"Win or lose?"

"Little a both." The young man shrugged as they continued along. "Last game he lost big. Seems he had to take a loan to get him through to pay day."

"Who?"

"Dunno. Could be a money man on base. Could a just been a friend."

They'd finally reached the end of the strip and had turned back to retrace their steps. "Officers allowed?"

"Sure,,, the younger ones. The guys like to take officer money." They were slowin' down a little more and the Warden didn't seem to be keepin' a straight line. It took a little while for the next question to come.

"Get me in?"

Chief frowned over at the Lieutenant, he was really startin' to sweat. He didn't think anybody could fake that, not even Actor. "Don't see why not. They play in the storeroom off the motor pool. Everybody knows it. Guess as long as the game's honest the MP's just let it go."

"When?"

"Every night there's no mission in the morning. This lousy weather they'll be in there tonight, startin' 'bout six. Things really get rollin' after chow. That was one thing that made Mitchell a little bit popular. He could tell 'em if they could plan a game for the next night or not." The Warden finally pulled up and when Chief turned he caught him holding his side. "You OK?"

"Cramp. Have to walk it off. I'll see you tonight." When he looked up he waved the younger man on, "Go on. I'll be fine," and watched as he jogged off towards the mess tent. After pacing off fifty yards or so, and retracing his steps, he headed back towards his quarters and the showers. He wasn't hungry anyway, and with everyone else at their meal he'd have a clear shot at what was left of the hot water.


	3. Chapter 3

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"This is the place, Lieutenant. Step right in and be prepared to part with your money."

There was a fairly good crowd gathered in around the makeshift tables. Poker could be set up any where, but they'd taken pains with the craps table. Some one had taken the time to frame up a board and it rested on four jacks, a level lay under the table. The click of dice could be heard, followed by the crowing of the man who'd just made his point. Chief had been right, there were younger officers scattered through the crowd. Garrison leaned in a corner and watched for a while, Casino was already winning at the table near him. He'd only been in the room five minutes or so before the man who'd been tailing him all day arrived.

One of the men that was sitting at Casino's table tossed his cards down with a laugh and declared he was finally going to leave a winner, even if it was only two dollars, before collecting his pot and bowing out with a smile and a wave. Casino looked in Garrison's direction expectantly, and asked. "You want in on this Lieutenant?"

"Sure. I'll give it a try." He was introduced to the others at the table, first names or nick names only, as he settled into the chair. The house rules were explained and they got down to playing. They stayed at it most of the evening, Patricks' man quickly contributing the money he had in his pockets to Garrison's winnings before leaving in disgust,,, the man couldn't bluff. As the game broke up Casino lingered to congratulate him.

"Not bad Lieutenant." As the last man left the building he stepped in close and lowered his voice. "I never knew they had riverboat gambling in Germany! Where'd you learn to play like that?"

"I had to put myself through school somehow Casino."

The east coast thief threw him a skeptical look. "I didn't think you had to pay to go to West Point."

"Pocket money then." Garrison laughed

"Just remind me not to sit down with you… I'll have to stick to pool to get your money."

The Warden smothered a smile, geometry had always been one of his favorite subjects. "You get the names of the guys that were here tonight?"

"Yeah, most of them. First names anyway." Casino'd already started writing a list. The plan was to get the information out to Goniff and Actor, and through them on to Reynolds and see if they could turn anything on the players while they found out what they did on base, and if they'd had any particular contact with Mitchell. "You really think this is gonna help?"

"I don't know, but it's the only thing we have right now." Reaching out to take the finished document from the safecrackers' hand Garrison scanned it, adding a last name or rank where he could, and jotting down a quick description of the men he remembered. "Alright, I need to get through that fence. You find a spot yet?"

"Oh Yeah! I got a nice little section all ready for you. There's a place just behind the building here where there are some low bushes right up to the fence. Not enough to block the view, but it's good enough to hide the opening I managed to cut into it last night. You'll have to go a ways on your belly to get to the trees, then it's about three miles straight through to town."

"So you were on the fence line last night, and you're on again tonight? Sergeants usually reserve walking the fence on third shift for a punishment duty." Garrison remembered Chief joking with Casino about already being in trouble. "What'd you do to deserve this?"

"Aw, nothin'!… Honest Warden I didn't know I was gonna be assigned to work with the guy…" There was a glint of laughter in his eye and his mouth was twitching up in a smile. "I cleaned the Sergeant out playin' poker the first night we got here. I don't think he's forgiven me yet."

Garrison just managed to stifle a laugh. "Well I hope it was an honest game. I don't want him getting wise to your tricks, you might have to use them later to keep on his bad side. This duty you've drawn might prove to be pretty useful to us." He checked his watch and continued. "OK I'll meet you back here in ninety minutes. That'll give the base a chance to settle down and it'll still leave me enough time to make it into town and back. Husoe's taking his plane up in the morning, and I got invited to go along."

"What! I thought the weather was keeping everything on the ground."

"It is, but I think our Colonel is a bit of a hot shot. Flies his own recon, stuff like that. I also think that new radar unit is probably mounted in his bird."

"There's gonna be fighters along to protect the plane then, right?"

"No, he's taking it up solo."

"But that's nuts!" Casino stared at the Warden. "What if you guys get shot down? That's just like handin' the damn radar system over to the Krauts!"

"Don't worry Casino" Garrison patted the worried man on the shoulder as he turned to leave. "There's probably enough explosives packed in that plane that nothing'll be left of it if we get shot down or have to ditch."

"Oh now, that's reassuring." He called after Garrison as he watched him walk away towards his quarters, jabbing first at the Lieutenant's retreating back and then at the ground. "All you guys are crazy, ya know! When this thing is over my feet are never leavin' the ground again. I'm not even goin' up in an elevator after we get through this!"

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He'd managed the run into town and had waited fifteen long minutes on the outskirts while he caught his breath. Damn cramps anyway. As soon has he could stand up straight and breathe quietly he made his way to the pub. It was quiet tonight, just the locals, the dark wool sweater and work pants he wore allowed him to blend right in. Actor was sipping wine at the table in the corner, and Goniff was leaning on the bar talking to a man who, judging by his dress, must have had a small business somewhere close by. The cockney thief smiled and nodded in Garrison's direction as he stepped up to the bar but stayed with his man, the conversation ending with both of them laughing. He topped the mans' drink up from the pitcher under the counter and then moved down to serve the newcomer.

"What can I get'cha, mate?" As he turned his 'good' ear toward the customer to hear his order his face turned away from the others that stood talking while they leaned against the bar, and he said under his breath. "We was wonderin' if one a you guy's would make it in here. What's up?"

"I'll have a pint." When Garrison leaned forward to pick up the glass Goniff reached across the bar to wipe at the far edge. "We have a list of names for you to check out. Meet me up in Actor's room," he said quietly before turning to move off towards the stairs.

Goniff launched a shout at his back. "That's right mate, up the stairs and then down to the right'll take you to the facilities."

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"Have you been able to find anything in our guys' file?" They were huddled around the table in Actor's room. The window was open, but the heavy blackout drapes had been pulled and cut off the air, leaving the room stuffy and warm.

"Nothing that seems to be a good enough reason for him to become a traitor. He was only on the base two months before he was killed. He didn't seem to be in any trouble. There are no complaints about him in any of the reports in his file. I haven't found anything in his background that would suggest he might be easily blackmailed into doing something like this."

"He was into gambling on base. Here's a list of the men who were at the game tonight. We need to see if there's anything on any of them, any connection to Mitchell, so get it out to Reynolds as soon as you can. Actor, we need to find out if there's a local gambling den around here."

"That isn't a problem Warden, Goniff already found it." Actor frowned over at the little cat burglar. He'd been totally ignored when he reminded him that their orders were to stay put and stay out of trouble. Getting the job in the pub had been a stroke of luck but when the little man told him he'd been invited to participate in the gaming…

"What!" Garrison rounded on the wiry little thief.

"Well, there's not much for a bloke to do around these parts…" Goniff started to stammer out his reasons while he wracked his brain for a defense.

He couldn't believe it, he was so surprised and pleased at having the information he wanted Garrison forgot the orders he'd left them. "Goniff! Where is it? Who runs it?"

"There's a basement in the pub, they got tables set up down there, Frank runs it. Seems friendly enough, just some locals gettin' together for a pint and a little fun after hours every night…there's probably a few of 'em down there now." Goniff saw the look in the Wardens' eye and was going to exploit it.

"Any of the men from the base in on it?" It wouldn't be of any use to him if it was a strictly local affair.

"Sure," the little man was really beginning to relax. This was just what the Lieutenant wanted to hear, he could tell from the look on his face. "Who'd ya think's got all the money round here?"

Actor frowned and looked from one to the other, this wasn't exactly the response he'd expected from their commander when he found out he'd been disobeyed. "What's going on?"

"That guy lost a bundle before he was killed." Garrison told them.

"You think they set him up for money?" Men had been drawn into all manner of things to pay back debits, or to 'strike it rich'. Actor had used that type of scheme himself

Garrison turned and looked at the older man. "Or just found out about him that way? I don't know, but we don't have anything else. Goniff I need you to find out if our man was in on this friendly little local game."

"Oh he was," the little cat burglar shrugged and sat back with a smile.

The Warden narrowed his eyes, considering him. "How'd you know that?"

"Blimey! I just asked. You guys ain't the only ones can come up with a con y'know?!" And then he smiled, remembering his own cleverness, and told them. "I just told it around that my cousin'd gone sweet on a bloke that worked off the base up here, and when she found out I was headed up here I was to ask after him, that's all." He'd found the locals ready to talk, especially the women. Unrequited love, and a tragic accident… it was just the thing to get them going.

"Can you get me into the game?"

"Shouldn't be a problem" Goniff shrugged. "Just be in the pub and start askin' nicely. I should be able to get you down there."

"So, you are going to set up a major loss and see if they take the bait?"

"I don't know yet." They'd still be looking for leads, any other reason Mitchell had decided to turn on his country and sell it's secrets. The Warden got up and checked his watch again. It had taken him longer to make it into town than he'd expected, he was going to have to cut this short. "I've got to get back in there before Casino's rotated off duty. I don't know when I'll be able to get off base, officially, but if it's a nightly game it shouldn't matter." He laid his hand lightly on the little burglar's shoulder and waited for the man to smile up at him expectantly. "Goniff, if I didn't really need the information you gave me just now, you'd be in _**so**_ much trouble." He gave the man a friendly pat, and left him to worry about his future.

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Visibility allowed them to see just past the trees that hemmed the runway on all sides, but as soon as they were off the ground and away from the field the fog pressed in on them, throwing itself against the windscreen as rain as they flew through it. Against all logic the weather cleared a bit over the channel, and they could make out a few hardy, or desperate, fishing boats below. It was patchy along the coast but the Colonel and his crew were confident in their course. It seemed this wasn't the first time they'd done this. Garrison wondered what the flights intension was. The bomb bay was empty, so it must either be a recon mission, or a test of the radar system, or both.

The weather they were flying through kept fighters on the ground, but didn't stop flak from being fired aloft. As soon as they passed within range of the guns they started to hear it and feel the plane shudder through the turbulence surrounding the explosions. The crew called out the elevation of the bursts, and the planes course and altitude was quickly adjusted to avoid them. They spent forty minutes playing target for the gunners down below before they'd met their objective. As they turned for home the wind came up, shredding the fog and clouds away into a clear blue sky. Things were about to get interesting. Husoe dove for the deck and ran for home but the fighters had been scrambled and they were on them. The radioman fired off their position and the men requested permission to clear their guns.

The planes intercom fell silent as they waited, then the tail gunner reported. "They're comin' up behind us Colonel. Two flights. Four o'clock low, and seven o'clock level."

"Alright fellas, we've still got some time before we're back in range of our fighters and we out run Jerries fuel. I'll find us a nice thick fog bank as soon as I can." That fog bank Husoe would be looking for was going to keep their fighters on the ground, they all knew it. They were on their own.

With the first pass all hell broke loose. Garrison didn't think he'd ever heard so much noise, not even in a mortar barrage. There was almost constant traffic on the intercom as the crew warned of the enemy fighter positions, whooping and calling out congratulations on hits. It was like being a target in a arcade shooting gallery complete with the pinging sound of bullets raking the aircraft, and the spent shells ejecting from the crews guns hitting the floor. He could see two planes dive in on them from the right, firing as they came, then swinging away below them. The move proved deadly for one pilot as his craft plowed into the sea and cart wheeled before exploding beneath them.

As another fighter made a pass and raked the plane's side everything seemed to happen at once. The starboard waist gunner fell, acrid smoke billowed from the radio compartment, the radioman yelled in pain, twisting out of his seat to sprawl onto the floor, and the turret gunner dropped down the ladder to snatch up the fire extinguisher. Garrison moved to help the injured gunner and was waved away with a curt instruction from the young man to _**'Get on the gun!"**_

"Sergeant! How bad are we hit?" Husoe's voice was calm as it came over the intercom, settling his crew.

"Harris and Walters are down, sir." The turret gunner reported. "And they took out the radio. It's had it."

"Alright. Get someone on that starboard gun!"

"It's already covered, sir. That advisor guy's on it."

The feel was a little like a tank mounted machine gun, but the mobility and the speed of the target was throwing him. A shout from the man on the floor adjusted Garrisons' thinking.

"You gotta imagine where they're gonna be, sir and aim there!"

He watched the fighter come in, plotted its course in his head and squeezed down on the firing mechanism. The tracers led him right in to the target and he turned to concentrate on the next one as it headed towards them. Time seemed to slow down, Garrison wouldn't have been able to tell how long they were harassed by the fighters. It seemed like hours before the fog folded them in a protective embrace, the guns finally fell silent and they could see to their wounded. The radio had been blasted and some of the instruments, but the radar was still working. They knew when they'd passed over the English coast, and all of them started praying the weather would break again and let them see where they were.

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The men on base gravitated to the control tower. They all knew the Colonel was out there somewhere. Only the tower personnel knew he was out there with no radio. They'd lost him in the middle of a transmission. They did know the plane was headed back and was under attack. The position and speed had been plotted from that call, and their arrival time computed… Chief had been on the field, and watched them take off, he was on the field now, waiting with the others, straining to catch a glimpse of the plane through the clouds and fog, listening as the radio traffic was broadcast from the tower.

"I got a single target! Bearing and speed are right." and after a tense ninety seconds another voice reporting. "Coastal spotter just called in. It's them! They're less than fifteen minutes out."

As the plane dropped down over the top of the trees and crossed the end of the run way, smoke trailing from one of the port engines, Husoe fired his flares, alerting the ground he had wounded on board. The men around the control tower scrambled into ambulances and fire trucks, rolling away from the tower and racing down the runway to be there to meet the plane as it came to a stop, leaving Chief at the mercy of his imagination. Emergency personnel came up under the plane, waiting near the hatches to evacuate the injured before the propellers even stopped spinning

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He helped lower the injured waist gunner from the plane and dropped to the ground as the young man was being loaded in the ambulance. There was a nick over Garrison's ear that sent a trail of blood down to soak into the collar of his shirt, and then a place where a piece of the plane had torn across his arm. Simple, shallow, painful and bloody, but not serious, nothing to worry about. It was a complete surprise to him when the world turned gray around him and the ground tilted. The next thing he knew he was being bundled into the back of the ambulance with the other two.

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"Just sit right there Lieutenant, I'll see if I can find a shirt for you." The injuries weren't serious, barely required treatment as far as Garrison was concerned and he was sitting on the table berating himself for his reaction when Colonel Husoe wandered in to check on him.

"They taking good care of you, Garrison?"

"Yes sir! But I could have handled this with soap, water and a bandaid back in my quarters." Garrison's tone telegraphed his disgust.

Husoe shook his head at the young officer and smiled. "Didn't look that way out on the field"

"I know." The Lieutenant ran his hand through his hair and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm still a little embarrassed by that."

"Don't worry. You just stood still too soon after it was all over." The Colonel chuckled. "I did the same thing my first time out, and I wasn't even hurt. And like the doc just got through reminding me, you're just coming off a medical leave. I assume that wasn't for something simple like a hangnail! I have been officially advised that I was an idiot for taking you up there."

"Don't worry, sir. No lasting damage done."

"Glad to hear it. There's a car waiting outside to run you over to your quarters as soon as you're ready to go."

"I don't think that's necessary sir! Like I said…"

"What? Take the chance of you toppling over again, Lieutenant? Then we'd both be embarrassed! And I'd get another chewing out by the doctor. You just do like your told and ride." His manner was friendly, but he had just issued an order. "You probably weren't paying too much attention, but we were taking pictures while we were up there, after it cleared off. They'll be ready at thirteen-hundred if you're up to taking a look…." the Colonel called over his shoulder as he wandered off down the hall to check on the other two. "Just call for the car again if you need it."

The orderly had come up with a T shirt and scrounged a jacket for him to use and insisted on helping him get dressed. He'd managed to talk his way out of the wheelchair delivery service to the entrance of the base hospital, but wasn't surprised to see Chief lounging against the car that Husoe promised would be waiting for him.

"You OK?" Chief had managed to buttonhole one of the guys that had driven the ambulance off the field and knew the injuries weren't serious, but the Warden seemed kinda pale and sweaty to him.

"Yeah, fine"

"Casino's right. All a you guys are crazy."

Garrison shook his head and laughed as he settled down in the seat next to Chief. How could he deny it. Taking a plane loaded with experimental equipment that the Germans wanted, over German held territory, without protective cover or backup? It wasn't exactly sane behavior. He hoped Husoe had gotten what he was after.


	4. Chapter 4

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He wasn't hungry, but the doctor had been adamant about eating a decent meal when he'd turned him loose from the hospital. So after he'd slept a couple of hours and then gone over the flight photos with the Colonel, Garrison was doing as ordered and picking his way through a plate of food. Eating arrangements on the base weren't as formal as some other installations he'd been on. The mess hall was large, and used by both enlisted men and officers, with the senior staff holding a large table near the entrance. It looked like Husoe wanted to be accessible to his men and encourage their approach by this informal arrangement. Major Lindmann, the CO's second in command was there now, in deep conversation with one of the NCOs from the security detail. The Colonel mentioned he'd only taken the base over recently, and Garrison wondered what it had been like before, and how much trouble some of the officers might be having with this new arrangement. Virgil Patrick came immediately to mind, and he was considering how Husoe's open policy might be irritating the man when he was interrupted by a softly drawled comment.

"I'm surprised to see you here tonight, sir."

Shoving the tray away he looked up at the man that had stopped by the table. "Why's that?"

"Well, it's kind of tradition on the base. A man gets hurt they cut him a pass and let him go blow off steam for a little while."

"Corporal, this scratch hardly qualifies as 'hurt', not compared to those other guys that were up there with us." How'd this guy know he'd been hurt? He didn't remember him being on the field when they landed, or around the hospital, but he seemed familiar.

"That doesn't make any difference. As soon as the others are on their feet they'll get their time. They just haven't caught up with you yet." The man smiled and started to move away from the table but turned back a moment later. "I watched you playing cards the other night. You play smart, and you're lucky. When they come across with that pass, sir, I know a game on the outside with some real money in it, if you're interested."

"I'll keep that in mind,,,," He raised an eyebrow at the man, waiting for him to identify himself.

"Oh! Barton, sir. Corporal William Barton."

"I'll keep that in mind, Barton." He watched the man walk off and leave the mess hall. He didn't remember that name being on the list of players they were checking out, but the guy would have gone unnoticed in a crowd. Average build, average weight, average height and his hair and eye color, bordering on translucent, could have ranged anywhere from blonde to mouse brown, green to brown, it was hard to tell. Everything about him was average and nondescript. The only remarkable thing about him was the soft drawling accent, and Garrison couldn't really place that. He shoved the chair away from the table, and as he walked his tray back up to the kitchen staff he spotted Chief and Casino sitting together near the front of the hall. They'd finished their meal and had just been relaxing at the table talking, waiting in case he needed them. As he turned and headed towards the entrance they got up and timed it so they arrived at the door just as he walked through. A slight stumble and they were both at his elbows, Chief offering the use of the car again.

Casino continued to keep his hand around the Wardens' arm as they waited for the Indian to bring a car over from the motor pool. He didn't know if this was an act so they could talk or not, the guy felt sort of shaky to him, and there were too many people around the entrance to the mess hall to find out. When he spotted the jeep making its way towards them he could finally them move away to comparative privacy.

Garrison started in before he could open his mouth with a question. "Casino, I'm going through the fence again tonight, you still in trouble with the Sergeant?"

"Well, no, but it shouldn't take much to piss him off again."

"Do it! I'll meet you out there at twenty-four-hundred."

The Warden had settled firmly into command mode, he must a been play actin' Casino thought. "What if I don't get that duty?"

"I'll watch from the motor pool. If it's not you on the fence I'll just go through between rounds."

"What's up?"

The jeep had just pulled to a stop in front of them, "Get it from Chief later." As they pulled out and left Casino standing at the entrance to the mess hall Garrison turned to address his driver. "Chief, I want you and Casino to find out anything you can about William Barton."

"Alright." The young man accepted his orders quietly. "That the guy in the mess hall?"

"Yeah. He said he was at the game last night but I don't remember him, his name wasn't on the list."

"Didn't seem to be a real noticeable guy. That why you're going out tonight, just to give his name to Actor?" He didn't really need to hear the answer, Chief knew the Wardens' style by now.

"Yeah. There's something funny about him. I can't explain it, but I want to know more about him."

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He'd made it to the motor pool with no difficulty and was crouched in the deep shadows at the side of the building waiting for the guard on the fence to make his pass. When the man came in sight it wasn't Casino. Either he'd not been able to irritate his Sergeant enough, which seemed impossible to Garrison, knowing him as he did, or he'd gone a little over the top and drawn some more disagreeable duty. He waited patiently for the man to pass out of sight and then made his way to the fence and slipped through. Snaking along the ground through the low brush that lay outside the fence he reached the trees and had to lay still while the guard retraced his steps and moved off out of sight again. Carefully climbing to his feet in the cover of the trees he moved off away from the perimeter of the base sixty yards or so before breaking into a jog towards the town. When this was all over he'd have to tell Colonel Husoe just how easy it was to get on and off his post.

Garrison by-passed the pub this time and climbed through a window at the back of the building and moved quietly up the rear stairs to let himself into Actor's rooms by picking the simple lock. Waiting in the darkened room he'd caught himself nearly nodding off, and cursed the sleepless nights and the minor injury for his lack of energy and less that alert state of mind. He heard the customers making their way out of the pub downstairs and listened as soft steps approached the room.

Actor spoke in the darkness as he turned to close the door. "You're lucky. I could have had a guest you know?"

"I guess I should have given some consideration to your not being alone. By now you should have scored with the help."

"The 'help' is Goniff, the kitchen girl is too young, and the proprietress is hardly my type. Besides she's a married woman." As Actor pulled the blackout curtains across the window Garrison flipped on the light that sat next to him on the table

"That's never stopped you before." He'd seen many a married woman melt under the charming smile and smooth manners of this con artist and imagined Maggie Dunn, the owner the pub was no different, but she was definitely not the suave aristocrats type. Mrs. Dunn was square built and stocky, and tended towards tightly curled, bleached blonde hair and too much powder, rouge and iodine red lipstick. Her hands were broad and her ankles thick, but with her open friendly smile she was undeniably charming, and Goniff had fallen for her as soon as he'd met her. In the pub that first afternoon he'd loudly proclaimed he'd gone madly in love with 'Maggs' after he'd tasted her cooking, and swore he'd win her away from her husband, Frank, using any means he could, short of murder. The laughter that bubbled out of her at his comment was another quality that had probably won her many suitors as a young woman and continued to draw admirers at her more matronly age of sixty.

As he settled into the other chair at the small table Actor frowned across at the Warden, taking note of the pale complexion and slightly hollowed appearance. "You've been injured!"

Garrison raised a hand to the side of his head. "I'm fine. I've done more damage to myself shaving." Waving away the other man's concern he continued. "I have another name for you. William Barton, Corporal."

"What does he do?" Actor shifted and pulled his pipe and tobacco from his pockets and started the ritual of filling and lighting it. "Why are you interested in him?"

Stretching and wincing as the scab on his arm pulled the Lieutenant replied. "I don't know what he does, but he offered me more profitable gambling off base and seemed to think I'd be getting a pass." He checked his watch. He didn't think he was up to another run back to the base and would have to leave enough time to get there at a quick walk, then spend time waiting to get through the fence. Garrison pushed himself up from the table and made his way to the door.

The older man's brows raised in speculation. This was the first indication they might be on the right track. "I'll see to it. You should get some sleep, you look terrible."

"If I can get back with no trouble I should have enough time for a couple of hours. The group's going up later this morning and I'm with Colonel Husoe again."

"Why is he having you fly with him?"

"Beats me. He likes me I guess."

"Or he doesn't trust you, or doesn't want to leave you time and opportunity to check up on him"

Garrison leaned against the door and looked back at Actor. He knew what he was thinking, and he'd considered the Colonel as a possible source for their leak but dismissed the idea. Nothing more than his instincts told him Husoe wasn't involved but he was willing to trust those. "I don't think he has anything to do with this. The project was in place before he took over the base, and I don't see how he'd be able to manipulate his way into this command." He shrugged and waited for the light to be turned off so he could check the hallway and make sure it was safe to leave. "I suppose he could suspect me though. The reason for me being on his base is thin enough, even though there are advisors on other airbases. I'll keep it in mind."

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It had taken more than an hour to make it back to the fence line at the base, and another thirty minutes of crawling through the underbrush and waiting in shadows before he was finally back in his quarters. That left less than two hours for sleep before he'd hauled himself out onto the field for his 'invigorating' run with Chief. Garrison was trailing along after the younger man, waiting for him to make it to the end of the run way and turn back to notice him. Considering the pounding in his head, and the ache in most of his joints, the Lieutenant wondered if it would have been smarter to just stay awake rather than sack out those two hours. It had been hard to roll out this morning, he felt like he'd been buried in sand. Chief made his turn and was headed back, he stopped and waved, jogging in place about twenty yards ahead, waiting to turn and keep him company as he made his own way to the end of the field.

"You guys come up with anything?"

"Not much. Works over around the hospital as an orderly or somethin'. He plays, sometimes. He's not a regular. It's hard to get anything on him, nobody remembers him." Chief noticed the gauze encircling the Warden's upper arm and slowed down to a jog. "You sure you should be doin' this?"

Bristling at the question Garrison shot back. "I did six miles last night and six the night before. Knock it off." Then he shrugged an apology and continued. "You know there could be a real advantage to being so ordinary. Keep trying. If you can't turn anything we might have to get into his records" The slower pace was making it easier to talk but he was beginning to feel the cramp tightening under his arm as they reached the end of the runway and turned.

"If you'r thinking' 'bout breakin' into the records building I guess I better tell Casino to keep irritating that Sergeant."

"He wasn't on the fence last night. What happened?"

Chief laughed. "He pushed it a little too far." It had been almost impossible to get the story out of Casino, he'd had to wade through a whole lot of swearing, a little of it wasn't even in English. "Sergeant sent him out to keep an eye on a very important garbage dump."

Garrison's control wavered, and the pain and cramp that hit as he started to laugh dropped him to the ground. Chief knelt beside him and turned him over, then sent a piercing whistle in the direction of the control tower. When he saw one of the men on the deck turn in his direction he stood and waved his arms overhead until the man brought his glasses up to see what was happening. Garrison rolled forward trying to rise but clutched at his arm and twisted onto his side on the gravel at the edge of the run way. "It's alright. It'll go away. I'm OK"

"Like hell you are! Stay down! Here comes an ambulance. We got a couple a the other runners comin' this way too." As they waited for help to arrive Chief kept a steadying hand on the Wardens' shoulder, he seemed to be havin' a hard time catchin' his breath and it was plain on his face that he was in some pain. The ambulance pulled up just as the other men reached them. Chief hailed the medics and then turned back to Garrison. Alarmed he shook him by the shoulder, trying to rouse him, but got no response.

He wasn't supposed to know him. Wasn't supposed to know anything about him. It was one of the hardest things Chief had done, just to stand there and watch as the ambulance drove off the field.

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The next time Garrison opened his eyes he was in the medical unit on base. His soft, careful cough drew the attention of the doctor on duty, and a moment later he was looking up into the worried face of a man who had been, and fervently hoped to go back to being, a small town family doctor.

"How are you feeling Lieutenant?"

"I don't know." Garrison started at the cold touch on his skin. Obligingly trying an experimental deep breath as the doctor listened he stopped as pain shot into his shoulder, neck and chest.

Taking the stethoscope from his ears and folding it away into the pocket of the white coat he wore the doctor looked into the wary eyes that were watching him. "Who told you it was OK to be out running like that?"

The Lieutenant frowned and seemed to consider his question before answering, "I just thought…"

"You're not taking deep enough breaths Lieutenant. I think your left lung's collapsed a little because of it." Pleurisy he thought, he'd heard the rub, but would know more after the tests. "You had no business being up in that plane yesterday, and you had no business out there running this morning. Didn't they give you restrictions when they released you?"

This must be the medic Husoe dealt with yesterday. "Yes sir, but I thought…"

"Why don't you just leave the thinking to us doctor types for a while, son, you'll live a little longer." All of these young men pushed themselves too far, expected too much from exhausted, injured bodies. He was either dealing with goldbricks that wanted to be taken off the duty rosters, or men like this, who were too eager to prove that they were fit and pushing to go back too soon. "I don't have your records Lieutenant, would you like to tell me what's been going on the last few months?"

"Sir?"

"I need to know why you've been pulled from combat duty, son. Can you tell me that?" The doctor waited to see what version of the truth this young man would come up with.

"Yes sir." He'd studied the file they'd planted on him and the medical records included all the recent injuries, changing only the facts around where they'd happened. He tried to keep his answer as vague as possible. "I was caught in an explosion a few weeks back."

"So you caught some shrapnel?"

"Yes sir. A little."

"Looks like everything healed up. What else is going on?"

"Doctors said something about nerve damage and scar tissue." That diagnosis hadn't pleased him but he was beginning to be able to ignore the sharp pain he got when he took a deep breath now, conditioning his body to work around it by the runs he took on the estate.

That might fit, the kid was tense and pale, and breathing like the ribs were broken, but he hadn't felt any sign of that when he'd examined him before he came to. "Was that from the explosion?"

"No sir. I took a couple of rounds, couple of months before that."

That accounted for the scars on his chest, the ones over his shoulders probably didn't affect these current symptoms, and he didn't seem to have any pain in his belly so he'd let the history on the scar that ran across there wait for another time. "Anything else?"

"Had a hard time getting over an infection that got started." He might as well come clean on that right away, he could feel the dull ache behind his eyes that usually preceded another round of fevers. "But they just tell me to get some extra sleep now."

At least he didn't try and cover that up. Maybe he had more sense than he was giving him credit for. "Seems you've been leading an exciting life lately Lieutenant. Alright. I'm going to get some x-rays and some other tests. We'll probably keep you overnight anyway and see if we can't make you feel a little better." The doctor moved across the room calling over his shoulder as he reach the door. "I'll send the nurse in with something for pain."

"No, sir. I don't need anything."

The doctor turned back and leaned in the door way, his arms crossed over his chest. "I say you do Lieutenant." He'd just heard the slight catch in his breathing as the kid protested.

"Sir, all of that stuff kind of makes me feel like everyone I see is out to get me. I'd rather not…" Garrison couldn't afford to be overruled on this one, and it was only half a lie. He hated the drugs and the way they made him feel. He hated to be in less than complete control.

Well, he'd heard of that reaction and it certainly wouldn't do the guy any good to add that drug induced state of paranoia to his discomfort. "OK. I guess we can back it off to a handful of aspirin and a hot pack and see how you do on that."

"Sir, I was supposed to go up with Colonel Husoe…"

The doctor narrowed his eyes in irritation. "I'll let him know Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." Garrison relaxed back against the pillows that had been shoved under his head and shoulders when he got here and hoped Husoe wouldn't catch too much grief from the medic. Watching the doctor leave he took a deep careful breath and felt the stabbing pain that had been a companion now for the last few weeks. He closed his eyes and worked through it, taking deeper and deeper breaths, while he waited for the corpsman to come to take him for his tests. There was a tap on the door just as he was beginning to believe he'd been forgotten and William Barton backed through dragging a wheelchair along with him.

"Your wheels are here Lieutenant. Doc says we're going down to take some x-rays." Barton hadn't looked up yet, he was concentrating on swinging the chair up close to the bed and locking it down so he could help his charge transfer into it without any trouble. The door was still swinging closed and as soon as he heard the slight click of the latch sliding home he looked up and smiled. "Well hello, sir. You back again so soon?" He bent down and flipped the foot supports of the chair out of the way and then straightened. "Come on, I got everything ready down in the x-ray room."


	5. Chapter 5

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Barton's manner was friendly as he rolled him through the halls. "They ever catch up with you with that pass?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, we'll let them know where you are now, once you get settled in. Be easier for them."

"I'm not staying." Garrison said with conviction.

Barton laughed "I think Doc Matheson will have something to say about that! Don't you like hospitals Lieutenant?"

"No offense Corporal," Garrison glanced back at the man. "but I think I'd rather be taken prisoner."

"Come on, sir! It's not that bad." Laughing, Barton backed them trhough a door. "Here we are."

"This isn't a very big place, is it?"

"No, sir. We don't need much This isn't a very big base. We can do the simple stuff. If it's something more serious we ship to the big hospital south of here. Or if we know we got something bad coming in a surgical team comes to us. That's happened a couple of times." Sliding the wheelchair to a stop in the room he braced it so the Lieutenant could stand up, and then pointed him towards a contraption that hung on the wall. "I just need you to stand right here for me, sir. Wrap your arms around here, and face this thing. Look I know when you take a deep breath it's going to hurt, but that's exactly what I need you to do." Garrison could hear the man move away from him, his voice called out from the far corner of the room. "OK. Take a deep breath in, nice and slow. Alright, now take in as much more as you can. Hold it! OK, you can relax Lieutenant, I'll be right back." Corporal Barton stepped through the door into the adjoining room, the one that the soft sound of running water was coming from. A moment later he was back. "Here you go sir, We do the same again for the side view and you're out of here."

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"You the only one that does this Corporal?"

"Just me and another guy that works nights, sir. If they need something after midnight they just come and get me and I start early."

"Must make for some short nights for you."

"Oh, hardly ever happens. Like I said we're a small place. We take care of the crews when they come back, and they don't fly at night. When I get called out it's usually because there's been an accident here on base. Had to come over once because one of the cooks dropped a big pot of oatmeal on his foot. You just have a seat right here, sir, I'll be back in a minute to take you back to your room."

A tap at the door had pulled Barton from the room to go down the hall to find some missing films on another patient. Giving in to the prickling sensation across the back of his neck Garrison got up carefully and moved across to the door labeled 'Darkroom'. It was standing slightly ajar, a hand lettered sign had been tacked to it at eye level. 'Keep closed please, all the dark leaks out.' Standing in the opening breathing the slightly sulfurous fumes he took in the tanks of chemicals and water, the metal frames that hung over head with the films stretched in them dripping water back into the far tank, and the long thin ribbons of dark acetate that curled down just visible at the end of the row.

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It had taken nearly all day but he'd finally managed to convince the doctor that he did not need to be kept at the hospital over night. That had required all sorts of promises on his part to take the aspirin, get some sleep, eat some decent food, do the breathing exercises he'd been shown, and get back to the hospital if anything seemed to be getting worse. He'd even let them wheel him out to the entrance this time and patiently endured it when he'd practically been lifted into the jeep. Garrison had just finished sitting through Chief's 'I told you so' lecture, before issuing his order. "I want to know everything about the guy that just did my x-rays."

"Why?"

"Because it was William Barton and he had strips of micro film hanging in there where he develops the x-rays. Can you think of any reason for that?"

Chief let out a low whistle and cut a look at Garrison as they drove across to his quarters "Well, one big one."

"Yeah It's probably the same one I came up with."

"You get a look at what was on the film?"

"No, he came back in too fast." He leaned back in the seat and took in a slow careful breath, wincing when the muscles under his arm caught. "I barely got back in the chair where he'd left me."

The young man shot a look of concern at the man riding next to him. "D'you think he knows you spotted the stuff?"

The Warden shook his head, "Not unless he can see through walls."

"Anything else?" Chief brought the jeep to a halt in front of the building that housed visitors and junior officers.

"Yeah, Husoe waltzed in after the mission debrief wrapped up and handed me a twenty-four hour pass that starts tomorrow morning."

"Think he's in on it?"

"I don't know." Garrison sat considering the question. "I didn't think so at first, but now… I don't know."

"What'r you gonna do?" Chief didn't think the answer would have much to do with the instructions the doc in the clinic had given the Warden when he turned him loose.

"I'm going to go grab a shower, and then I'm going to look Corporal Barton up. I'll meet you guys over around the mess hall after I've talked to him." The Warden stepped from the vehicle and headed for the entrance as the sound of the jeep engine faded away behind him.

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Garrison went back to the small hospital to find Barton, ducking down a hall when he saw the doctor, he didn't want to have to talk his way out of the building again. He'd been directed to a hall lined with chairs that sat outside the small x-ray and lab area where he waited for the man to come back from delivering a patient back to his bed. Five minutes later they were talking, both of them leaning against the table in the x-ray room.

"I told you they'd come through, sir! So," Barton rubbed his hands together and smiled. "you interested in making a little money?"

Garrison smiled back. "I wouldn't turn the chance down if it was offered Corporal. Where is this 'hot spot' of yours?"

"Oh that changes, sir. You understand. But if you're really interested I can give you a pass into the game and a number to call."

"That's what I'm here for, Corporal."

"Great! I'll just be a minute. I have to finish up in the darkroom. You just have a seat right here, sir." Barton pulled a stool up along side the table and headed into the next room, carefully closing the door behind him.

It took twenty minutes for the man to reappear. He smiled and held a small book out as he approached. "Alright, here's your ticket in, sir. The number's inside. You just call that when you get into London and they'll let you know where the game's being set up. The guy that runs it is partial to these old books."

Reaching out to take the offered book Garrison frowned. "I can't get there tonight…"

"Oh that's OK, sir, the game's always going." He continued smiling and waved away Garrison concern. "The set up works whenever you can go. The number's the same, they just change the location of the game."

"Thanks Corporal Barton," he slid the small volume into his pocket. "I'll tell them you sent me."

"The book'll tell them that, sir. You just have a real good time."

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"So, he set you up?"

"Yeah, he gave me this." The Warden slipped a small book from his pocket and laid it in the safecracker's hand. "And a number to call when I get there." They were standing in the shadows at the back of the mess hall shielded from view by the barrier that enclosed the large garbage cans. The smell wasn't very appealing and Garrison felt a quick surge of sympathy for Casino, and the night he spent patrolling the large dump at the far edge of the base.

"It's a floating game then? There won't be anyway to check the place out before you get there." Chief was worrying over the Warden going alone into a place that could be full of German spies.

"I'll take Actor and Goniff up with me." He knew the young man was chafing at not being able to back him up and tried to reassure him. "And I'll probably have Reynolds and some of his men around too. It'll be fine."

Casino was looking at the small volume the Warden handed him, turning it over in his hands and paging through it. "Aw man, you'r not gonna tear this apart are ya? It's one a my favorites.

Garrison hadn't paid any attention to the book he'd been given, other than to note that it was almost small enough to be secreted in his hand, and it slipped easily out of sight in his pocket. He focused on it now as Casino held it on his palm, stroking the cover. Small, thin, the royal purple leather old enough to have faded to a dusty comfortable sort of blue, gold lettering still glinted on the spine and from the medallion stamped on it's cover. "What is it?"

"Arabian Nights!" Meeting Chief's blank look he continued, "Come on! You know! Aladdin. Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves? The Enchanted Horse?" shaking his head in amazement. "Don't you guys ever read anything good?!"

Garrison raised an eyebrow as Chief snorted in amusement. "I need to get this out to Actor so he can go over it. Casino…."

"I know! Night patrol." he groused as he handed the book back to the Lieutenant.

"Yeah, but keep it toned back a little this time. Having you guard some garbage pile won't do me any good."

"It won't do my nose any good either. Jeeze! How 'bout if I just tell the guy I like patrolling the base in the middle of the night?"

"Don't do that Pappy." The younger man advised with a grin. "If he thinks you like it he'll never assigned you again."

"Is that all it takes!" Casino snorted. "OK then I'm telling him I really love the third watch!" Casting a doubtful eye on Garrison, "Are you goin' through the fence again!? Shouldn't one a us do that?"

Chief turned his own critical eye on the Lieutenant. "Yeah man, you look like you'r runnin' outta gas."

"I'll be alright." Garrison waved away their objections. "Besides I don't want to risk Chief getting caught, I'll need him for a driver tomorrow. And you've got fence duty "

"OK but take it easy, will ya? If you run yourself into the ground out there in the woods someplace nobody's gonna be around to pick you up…" They'd already made their own plans. Casino would let the Warden out, but Chief would be out there waiting to trail him in and back, just to make sure he made it.

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"This is a beautiful book! It's a shame to damage it." Actor turned the volume over in his hands, noting its age and fine leather binding.

"Try not to, Casino'd probably kill me. Besides I have to use that to get into the game."

Casino! Actor couldn't believe he'd be able to appreciate anything this fine and passed the comment over as a joke on the Wardens' part. "How do you want to work this?"

"I'll have Chief drive me in later and then we can go up to London in the car you're using."

"Are you going to call that number from here?"

Garrison considered that a moment before answering. "No. I think I'll do it once we get into the city. I can tell them I'm calling from the base. That will leave us enough time to check the place out before I have to go inside."

"You're takin' me n'Actor in with you, ain't you?" Goniff asked, his concern for the Warden was real, but he wouldn't mind a chance at the money either.

"I don't see how I can. Barton didn't say anything about taking friends along." Garrison sat with his eyes closed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It'll give you guys a chance to see Reynolds though. See if they've come up with anything on the names we've given them."

"I wish there was a way to let them see this book, just in case I miss something." Actor was surprised and concerned that Garrison hadn't thought of that himself. It was sloppy and not at all like him. The Warden looked worn and tired. He hadn't gotten much sleep over the last few nights and had been injured, no matter how firmly he declared that only a minor nuisance.

"Good idea." Scrubbing his hand through his hair Garrison shook his head. "I should have thought of that. "That'll mean an even earlier start. Alright, I'd better get back then." He stood and stretched before cracking the door open to see that no one was in the hall to see him leave. "I'll see if I can get off base by seven and meet you here first thing in the morning."

"Great! I'll have Maggs do up a breakfast for you. You like kippers Warden?" Goniff knew the answer to that, the Lieutenant hated the things, but he figured an extra plate of them around wouldn't go to waste.

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"What are you guys doing, waiting up for me?!" Garrison hadn't really been surprised when both of them met him as he slipped back through the fence.

"Yeah!" Casino growled quietly from the darkness. "And you'r past your curfew. You'r grounded!"

"You guys find anything in that book?" Chief carefully checked the area around them.

"Nothing. Actor's going to go over it tonight, and then we'll take it in to Reynolds in the morning before I hit the game. I'm going to put in for a driver around seven, think you can get the assignment?"

"Hasn't been a problem so far." The young man answered with a slight chuckle.

"Yeah!" Casino turned on him. "How come every time he needs a car you been driving it?"

"S'easy. When his name's on the req somebody'll say, 'Isn't that the guy fell over on the runway?' Now it'll probably be 'passed out when he was runnin?'' I say, 'Yeah, that's the guy' and they send me." Turning a smile on their commander. "I don't think any of 'em want a take a chance on you fallin' over on 'em."

Garrison cleared his throat, "Well I'm glad that's been proving useful." He straightened his shoulders a bit. "It's a good thing I thought of it."

"Yeah right!" Casino snorted in disbelief. "And I s'pose you got a bridge you wanna sell us too!" He whispered at the Warden's back as he watched the other two disappear into the darkness.

ggg

Actor had just finished dressing when there was a soft tap at his door. Seven fifteen, the Warden obviously got his car. Opening the door he admitted his commander who got right to the point. "Did you find anything?"

"There's nothing there. At least nothing I can find." Crossing over to the bureau the elegant con man retrieved the small book and handed it to Garrison.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You can check for yourself if you wish."

"No, if you haven come up with anything… Besides we can't destroy the damn thing I've got to use it to get into the game. Maybe Reynolds people can come up with something."

"Will you still go into London if they don't?" Another knock at the door and Goniff joined them, sliding in to a chair that sat at the table and helping himself to Actor's cup of tea.

"Yes. At least I'll be able to see what that operation's like. Goniff, you'd better get going." The cockney cat burglar rolled his eyes, downed the last of the tea and scooped the biscuits into his pockets and headed out the door. Garrison had arranged to have breakfast downstairs in the pub, Actor was taking his in his room, which would give Goniff time to make it out of town where they could pick him up without being observed. After they'd seen him disappear down the stairs the Lieutenant moved out and left by the window at the bottom of the back stairs to enter the pub from the front doors.

Actor timed it perfectly and arrived in the pub just as Garrison was finishing the last of his meal. "Lieutenant, Mrs. Dunn mentioned you were looking for a way into London. I'm driving in, would you like a lift?"

Pushing up out of the chair and tossing the money for his meal on the table the Warden smiled, "That's very kind of you, and I'll take you up on it." His eyes flicked quickly to the door and back. Virgil Patrick had just strolled in, settled himself at a table and was staring at the two of them.

"It would be most agreeable to have company on the drive. My car is just outside, shall we go?" Actor stepped aside and graciously waved the younger man towards the door ahead of him. He'd seen the Captain arrive, and judging by the scowl on the Indians' face, so had Chief.

"It was very kind of you to arrange breakfast for your driver, Lieutenant. What a shame he couldn't take you in to the city, but I supposed he has many other responsibilities." Actor kept them talking just near the doors until Mrs. Dunn finally arrived to occupy Patrick by taking his order. They stepped outside and moved away from the door. It didn't take long for Chief to be standing next to them in the shade along the side of the building. "I think it would be best if Captain Patrick was not given the opportunity to follow us."

"Already taken care of, man. I saw him drive up. You guys go ahead and take off. He's gonna find it hard to keep up with you on those two flat tires." He smiled at them as they turned to walk to the car Actor was using. "I'll see to it he gets a nice slow ride back to the base."

Two miles out of town the car pulled to a stop next to a wiry blonde man who was kicking his heels against the stones of the fence where he was perched. He took the last bite of an apple he'd pinched from one of the trees on the other side of the fence before he chucked it back towards the orchard and climbed into the car, closing the door as it moved off down the road. "I don't s'pect either of you blokes thought to bring any of your leavings along for me?"

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Reynolds' people had been over the book and hadn't found anything. They didn't have anything unusual to report on the men who belonged to the names they'd been given either. Nothing out of the ordinary, but they were still looking. Corporal William Barton seemed to be the ideal soldier, never getting into any trouble, and he continued his perfect record for being ordinary by falling in the middle rankings in all of his reported tests and training. That made Garrison even more suspicious of him.

The Warden followed through and called the number on the torn piece of paper tucked inside the front cover of the book. The man that answered asked several question about the volume he'd been given, right down to the publishing house and the date before telling him where to come. Goniff's ears had pricked up at the address, and he'd remembered the bloke who'd run gambling in the back room back in the days when he'd been running numbers and nicking wallets on the streets of London as a kid.

Garrison took a cab from a few blocks away, letting them get in position, and scanned the street for Actor's car as he walked up to the door. At his knock a man opened up and asked what he might do for the Lieutenant. Repeating what he'd been told to say, Garrison explained that he'd brought a book by for 'Eddie' and he was immediately admitted and ushered into the back rooms. The man at the door slipped the book into his pocket as they strolled through the tables.

"We got anything you fancy Gov'ner. But you Yanks seem partial to the poker table." Moving to the table in the corner he pulled an empty chair out and waited for him to be seated. "Jerry here'll take real good care of you. I'll send the girl over with a drink. First one's on the house."

A night's work at the tables garnered Garrison nearly eight hundred dollars. Skill hadn't won all of those hands. Someone was manipulating the cards so they fell in his favor. He played into the early morning before excusing himself by explaining he'd need time to get back to his base before the pass ran out, and left as complaints and complements on his winning followed him out the door. Walking down the street and around the corner he leaned against a building for a while, watching to be sure he hadn't been followed before signaling Actor to pick him up. Crawling into the back he leaned into the corner and closed his eyes, trying to remember the last time he'd gotten a full nights sleep.

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"Hey Lieutenant! How'd you do?" The Corporal stepped out of the administration building just as Garrison was climbing out of the jeep that collected him in town.

"Barton." Strange that this would be the first guy to greet him. "Great! I feel like I ought to cut you in for a percentage. Thanks for sending me up there."

"Glad to do it, sir. If you ever want to go again, just let me know. Maybe next time I'll take you up on that cut." He called over his shoulder as he continued on towards the mess hall.


	6. Chapter 6

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They'd finally had some luck. The weather cleared and the group had flown out an hour after Garrison returned to base. Patrick and all of his followers were safely away, over the continent dropping their bombs. They were sitting in a quiet corner of the mess hall over coffee.

"It's Barton. It has to be."

"Well I know the guy looks more and more like a rat every time I see him, but what makes you so sure." Casino took a long pull on his coffee and waited for the Wardens' answer.

Garrison leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "How'd he know I hit that game? He didn't ask me if I went up, he just asked me how I did."

"Somebody reported back to him." Chief stated simply.

"Yeah. Either the guy that took the book or one of the dealers." The Warden mentally settled on the guy on the door. He would have been able to report practically as soon as he'd seen the mark to his table.

"You think the dealers are in on it?"

"Casino I'm good, but somebody was making sure the cards were falling my way."

The safecracker nodded, "To hook you into comin' back."

"Looks like it."

"What'r we gonna do now? Turn him over to Reynolds?" Casino asked, knowing the Warden would have more in mind than just uncovering the spy like they were ordered.

"No. I think we can get more on him. And I want to know for sure that he's the one that sent that film out with Mitchell."

Chief caught Casino's 'What'd I tell you' look and smiled, "You don't think Mitchell had anything to do with it any more?"

"I can't see how." Garrison was intent on his own thoughts and missed the exchange between his men. "We haven't been able to find anything that would make him do something like this. They've even been digging into his family. He had a wife and a baby back home. They've traced every step he's taken, and so far they haven't found him put so much as a foot wrong."

"What d'we do now?"

"Now we go after the records building."

"When d'you wanna do it?"

"Tonight. So, ah… Casino."

"I know. I know." The east coast thief heaved a resigned sigh. "You know if I keep this up that guy's gonna organize a firing squad just for me, and you promised we wouldn't have to worry about one a them this time out!"

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Chief and Casino changed places as soon as they'd gotten there, Chief taking his place so the guard detail wouldn't be a man short. They'd split up after the safecracker worked his magic on the first door's lock and moved on down the hallway to the next room. Garrison knew the records were here, he just didn't know which office they were in. They needed to find them quickly so they'd have enough time to go through them, or they needed to get out with them. He was keeping his fingers crossed the file cabinets would be open. If he had to call Casino back, or try and work on them himself, it would slow them way down. There was enough light from the windows to show him a bank of metal file cabinets lining the wall opposite the door. Before he got half way across the room a quiet 'snap' from the next office down caused him to turn and head there instead.

Casino turned when he heard the Warden's quiet approach. "This what we're lookin' for?" Holding out a file with Barton's name on it he waited while the Lieutenant thumbed through some of the papers. "This whole thing looks like it's stuffed with personnel files."

"This is it! Casino, send Chief back in and get out there to make the pass with the other guard." It wouldn't do for a mechanic to be found patrolling the grounds at night.

g

"What'r we lookin' for, exactly?" Garrison divided the file and handed half to Chief. They were huddled in the corner of a storage room scanning the documents with the aid of flashlights. The room had no window but they'd taken the time to roll up Garrison's jacket and tuck it along the bottom of the door to keep even that dim light from escaping and giving them away if anyone came into the building in the middle of the night.

He started to page down through the documents he held, searching for any thing that might indicate the man was a plant. "I don't know. Anything that doesn't seem to match up. Anything that doesn't make any sense."

"There's not a whole lot here." The young man said, looking down at the few pages he held in his hands.

"Guess he hasn't led a very exciting life." Garrison said absently as he continued to read

"That's good for a spy, isn't it?"

"You, bet! They want to stay as inconspicuous as possible. If he's our guy, he'll work real hard at staying out of trouble."

"Looks like he was good at that. I don't see anything, man. This guy's a real Boy Scout."

Garrison massaged the back of his neck, thinking. They'd both been through every page of Bartons' record. Neither one of them had turned a thing. Just like the report from Reynolds' people. The guy was clean. Perfect. He'd been on base six months and the project had been running seven. "We need to see the pass list."

"The what?" Chief followed as Garrison led the way into the office at the end of the hall.

He'd seen Major Lindmann working in there when he'd come over with Colonel Husoe and hoped the second in command would be in charge of handing out leaves and passes. "The pass list…..it should be around the desk here someplace." After a few tense moments, and a chance to practice picking another drawer lock, they had the document in their hands. "Look for Mitchell. Let's see what kind of time they were cutting him."

"Here! Here he is." Chief had turned the pages back and set his finger under the mans' name.

"That's the day he was killed… Go back in the list, see if he was on it before."

"Right here."

Garrison frowned down at the list "Look at the date"

"That's not right. It ain't even two weeks."

"Wait a minute. Keep going back in the record. Let's see if this weekend pass is out of order"

"Looks like the weekend pass falls right where it's 'spose to." The pattern of names had become apparent as they'd scanned through the list. Mitchell fell right where that pattern told them he should

"Yeah! That twenty-four hour job is the one we need to look into. We need to look at Mitchell's file" Turning the Warden headed for the door.

"Why?"

"To see if he got himself injured. Remember what Barton told me?"

"Yeah. 'it's tradition to cut a guy a pass…'" Chief frowned as he watched the hallway from the door to the office. "But he was a weather man. How'd he get hurt?"

They'd gone back to the room with the personnel files and Garrison had quickly located Mitchell, "Look at this "

Scanning the file Garrison held out to him the young man looked up in surprise. "A jeep hit him? He got a pass for gettin' in an accident right here on the base?"

"Looks like it." Garrison tapped the page further down. "And look who was driving the jeep."

"William Barton"

"BINGO!"


	7. Chapter 7

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Another trip through the fence and into town to bring Actor and Goniff back into the woods outside the base. Garrison had learned the value of having the team all together to worry out the flaws in a plan or dissect the facts they'd uncovered on the missions they'd worked over the months they'd been together. Each of them approached a problem from a slightly different angle, and none of them were afraid of pointing out defects in his logic or planning if they spotted them. Chief joined them almost as soon as they arrived and they'd only waited twenty minutes for Casino to get there after he'd finished up his patrol and reported to his Sergeant. They had an hour together before Chief had to report for duty and the Warden had his meeting with Husoe.

"It was a test." Garrison told them. "To make sure the man would go all the way to London They send him up with a blank and when they know he'll follow through then they give him the book with the film in it. It has to be."

"How'd they know he'd go back again?"

"Eight hundred dollars is an excellent incentive Goniff. You're a gambler would you give up a chance to make that kind of money again?" Actor asked.

"That's what they count on. When the man they've marked as a courier calls the number he's been given he has to tell the guy on the phone all about the book he's got. That way they know he's being sent by Barton." Garrison shrugged, looking at his men as they ranged around him. "When he gets in there he has to hand the book over, so it seems right to him when he has to do it the next time,,, makes it exciting too. The house, or at least one of the dealers, lets him win big to hook him into coming back, and then Barton hands over the book with the microfilm in it when the guy gets his regular weekend pass. I think Mitchell was on his second run up there when he got killed in that accident."

"So he didn't know." Actor shook his head at the senseless waste of a young mans' life. "It was just a tragic accident after all."

"Mitchell didn't have any idea. None of the others have either." The Warden leaned back wondering how many men had been duped into helping the enemy. "They've just been going to London to clean up in a high stakes poker game. Some of the names that got those extra twenty-four hour passes match the ones on the gamblers list"

"Y'know Warden." Chief volunteered. "Even Patrick got one a them extra passes."

Garrison frowned. "But he doesn't play here on base" As much as he disliked Patrick he hoped the man wasn't a traitor. "So he doesn't have a connection to Barton."

"Ah! Warden, but he plays in town at the pub!" Goniff told him. "Every chance he gets. And that Barton fella's been down there playin' too."

"What'd we do now?"

"We need to break into that file that's got the stuff on the radar system." Garrison narrowed his eyes and his chin lifted.

"What are you thinking?" They all knew what he was thinking, they'd seen that gleam in the Warden's eye before.

"I'm thinking Corporal Barton might find some way to get me a weekend pass. I think he probably has some new data he needs to move after Husoe's last solo trip out." He looked around at them and smiled. "And I'm thinking we need to make up our own micro film to send to London."

"You're going to pass along classified data to the Germans?!" Actor asked, and the light in his eyes matched Garrisons.

"With a few minor changes…"

"You know how to do that Warden?"

"No, but Reynolds can put some experts on it. We have to know where they are in the testing program though. He could probably find that out but it would take too long. And we can't chance sending something they already have. We need the new stuff." Garrison cocked an eyebrow and smiled around at them. "So we gonna go in there and steal it for him. Actor can take it to him and they can play around with the data some."

"Uh, Warden, isn't it gonna be a little dangerous stealin' secretes here on base?" The specter of a US Army firing squad had planted itself firmly in the safecracker's mind.

"No worse that doing it across the channel, Casino." The Lieutenant assured him.

"But they could still shoot us, right?" Chief asked

Garrison's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Only if we get caught." Then he frowned. "Besides, it's been easy enough to move on and off this base. I want to see how hard it would be to get to the records on that new radar unit. Casino…."

"Lemme guess!"

The Warden laid a consoling hand on the man's shoulder. "Sorry."

Casino closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "Oh no you'r not!"

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It had been much harder to get into this building. Garrison, Chief and Casino watched it through the day and found there were more men patrolling it. They'd waited in the darkness, watching as the guards made their rounds, getting the pattern and timing down before Chief went to change places with Casino so he could work his magic on the locks.

He and Casino found the safe easily enough once they'd gotten inside, moments later Casino was swinging the door open and they were sorting through the documents it held. Garrison scanned the material making sure it was what they were after before sending the safecracker back out to finish his patrol.

Garrison decided he would work alone photographing the documents. If he was spotted that would still leave two of them to get word out to Reynolds and the others, and to keep watch on Barton. He moved quickly through the data, concentrating on the most recent entries, and replaced the bulb in the lamp and returned everything to the safe, slipping out a back window just as the guard stepped through the front door.

g

It took nearly sixty minutes to work his way back to his quarters where Chief was to meet him to pick up the film and take it through the fence to Actor. It seemed there was some one following him, but he couldn't hear anything when he stopped, and never saw anything. He'd spent almost forty minutes waiting patiently in the deep shadows along the side of the building before he decided that he was probably reacting to fatigue and raw nerves. He slipped through the door to his room and closed it quietly behind him. The light on the desk flashed on and he found himself looking directly into the barrel of Andrew Crossmans' pistol.

"Captain Patrick remembered you right off when he saw you in the pub." The young man growled at him. "Told us all about you. Virg said if we watched you long enough you'd show your true colors. He sure was right. Seems that name of yours might be French Garrison, but the blood running in your veins is pure Kraut!" Crossoman waved him away from the door. As he moved along the wall the man stepped up to block the way out, turning to face him where he now stood in the middle of the room.

"Yeah! I remembered him too." They'd decided on two hours for him to get the pictures and get back to his quarters. Chief was due any minute, he just needed to give him time to get there. "He was a big man at the Point. Had himself quite a group of followers. They did pretty much anything he told them to do. In tight with some of the instructors too." There was someone moving up on the door behind Crossman, he could see the shadow on the floor at the bottom of it, and saw the knob start to move. "He was one of the seniors that had me roped to a tree and beaten nearly senseless in a mock interrogation. Said they were testing how I'd hold up under duress. Then they left me out there all night to see about my endurance. Oh, I remember Captain Patrick. He was pretty surprised when I went back to classes after they let me out of the hospital. I'm sure he thought I'd either quit or they'd turn me out like some of the other cadets he'd pulled that kind of thing on."

The door opened silently and Chief slipped in along the wall the knife ready in his hand. "Where is he?" The Warden asked. "Didn't want to be in on the kill himself?"

"Cap's got himself a pass, but he left me to keep an eye on things. And I got you, you son of a bitch. I saw you sneaking around over across the compound and figured you'd head back here."

With a subtle shake of his head Garrison ordered Chief's knife away. He wasn't going to risk the young man's arrest by doing Crossman any injury, even if that increased his own chances of being shot. "Patrick's got himself a pass does he? Wouldn't be headed in to London to do a little gambling, would he?"

Chief was nearly in position, he had to keep Crossman totally focused on him. A step forward riveted the mans' eyes on his face, and the barrel of his pistol dead center on his chest. "He's been up there before, hasn't he? Carried a little book up and got into a game where he won big…."

As Crossman tried to puzzle out how this Kraut traitor had known about that, Chief pulled his head back with an arm across his throat, and Garrison's hand shot out to take the pistol.

Garrison stepped forward and grabbed the front of Andrew Crossman's shirt as Chief pulled his arms behind him. "Patrick have another book with him this time?" The shock on Crossman's face gave him his answer. "Damn it! How long's the pass good for? When'd he leave?!" When the man didn't answer he jerked him forward, nearly off his feet, and brought him close in so they were standing nose to nose. Almost in a whisper he advised him. "Lieutenant, you'd better answer my questions or I'm going to let Chief here ask you, and you won't like that."

Crossman's eyes went wide as he heard a slight metallic click behind him, and he caught the flash of light from the blade that was brought up to rest against his right cheek, just under his eye. It didn't take him long to decide. "It's just for twenty-four hours! He,,, he left after chow tonight, but he always stops at the pub. He's got a thing for a girl that works there in the kitchen."

"Did he get a book to take with him? Is he headed in to London?" Garrison released him and stepped back shoving the pistol he'd taken from him into his pocket as he slipped into his jacket.

"Yeah," The man behind him was practically holding him up now, as soon as the knife dropped away from his face all of the strength had gone out of Crossman's knees.

"What'd you wanna do with him?"

"Bring him along, but tie him up and gag him. Can't have him alerting the whole base." Dragging one of the drawers open Garrison tossed Chief one of his belts and a neatly rolled pair of socks.

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"Sorry we couldn't let you know ahead of time Colonel." They were gathered in Husoes' office. A discrete tap on the door of his quarters by one of the guards had roused him from his rest and brought him here to this meeting. The guard just happened to be Casino.

"This is kind of a fantastical tale Garrison. What if I decide I don't believe you and call the MP's?" Husoe was rocked back in the chair behind his desk. Garrison stood on the other side facing him, and the young man he'd called Chief had one of his men, Crossman he thought, one of Patricks' crew, trussed up and sitting on the couch he used sometimes to catch some sleep between mission and photo debriefs.

"I'm hoping you won't do that, sir. It didn't hurt my feelings too much to tie this guy up and gag him," Garrison jerked his head back towards the man sitting huddled on the couch. "But I wouldn't want to handle you the same way, I kinda like you. And we don't have any time to waste playing games."

"Alright." Husoe considered the young man standing in front of him, and decided he'd probably be able to back up that casually stated threat. "What do you need from me Lieutenant?" He also decided he believe the story he'd just been told.

Garrison started to breathe again. "I need you to keep this absolutely quiet. We need to pick Barton up. My men will handle that if you just keep your guys from getting in the way. I could use your staff car. And I need you to notify the gate that you're sending me off base."

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Actor was just nodding off over a book in his room when a soft tapping at his door brought him to his feet. The door opened and the Warden slipped inside. "Patrick? Has he been here tonight? Have you seen him?"

"Yes. He was here earlier. It seems he fancies the young woman who works in the kitchens. Apparently it is a mutual fascination."

"Is he still here?"

"I don't know." The con artist set the book aside on the table and watched as Garrison started to turn, opening the door again. "We'll have to gain access to the lady to determine that. What's happened?"

"He's got a pass and he's got a book. He's headed for London, but one of his flunkies told us he always stops here first." Garrison was already out the door, heading down the hall for the stairs.

"Goniff will know where to find her. And we'd better make sure Captain Patrick isn't down below stairs gambling with the locals." The con man followed after his commander. He'd already been invited to the gaming, and wouldn't cause a stir if he went in to have a look around, and he was sure they would find Goniff there trying his luck.

Elizabeth Margaret Mary Dunn was Maggie's niece, and had been living and working in the pub since her parents had been killed in London in the blitz. She had a wild side and a liking for the things the airmen could provide. Virgil Patrick had made his way into her bed with nylons and chocolates, and promises of marriage and a life in the States when the war was over. She believed in those promises and didn't want to get him into any trouble with these strange men. She'd already told them he was going to London, but that wasn't wrong, was it? He had his pass

"Miss Dunn, Captain Patrick has information the Germans want on him." Garrison leaned forward across the table towards her, trying to convince her to help them. "He doesn't even know it. If he goes up to that game in London he could be killed. Now I need to know when he left you."

She worried her fingernails with her teeth, watching the man that seemed to be in charge.

"Come on Lizzie. He's telling the truth, luv. You have to tell." Goniff smiled down at her. She was a good kid really, just got tied up with that rotter Patrick.

"He just left 'bout half one. I tried to get him to stay." She stammered and started to cry. "I don't like him on the road at night what with the black outs. It's not safe."

Garrison checked his watch. "That means we still have a chance of catching him. Goniff! Take her down to her aunt. Tell them as much as you have to so they'll keep her quiet. Have them call through to the base and tell Husoe Patrick's headed for London, then tell them to stay in their rooms 'til morning and act like nothing's happened." He called over his shoulder as he followed Actor down the stairs. "Get to the car as fast as you can!"


	8. Chapter 8

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Actor claimed to have driven in a road race along the streets of Milan once, and he was proving that story to be true now as they raced along the road through the darkness. The moon was half full and casting just enough light for them to see the road ahead, but they were definitely traveling too fast. Goniff huddled in the back seat with his hands over his eyes. As much as he hated jumping out of planes or traveling on submarines he was praying for the chance to live to see just one more mission.

It was the Warden who spotted him. "There's something up ahead, there." He pointed through the windscreen to the road in front of them, "just taking that turn."

Patrick had seen someone moving up on him in the darkness and increased his speed. Husoe might be right, he might be a good pilot, but he was no match for Actor on this road. Within moments they'd pulled along side. Garrison shouted across to him. "Stop the car Patrick! Pull over!"

"The Hell I will!" The jeep Patrick was driving surged forward but it couldn't beat the car they were in. Actor pulled neatly ahead just as the hedgerows closed on either side of the road, and eased his foot onto the brake, forcing the other man to slow down. As they made the next turn the road opened up again and the Captain tried to come around on their right.

"Run him into the ditch!" Garrison ordered. They were traveling slower now, and the road dropped away to level fields on both sides. Running the man off the road here might still injure him, but if they'd tried it earlier the car might have rolled or crashed into the trees and bushes that made up the hedge they'd just left behind them. Garrison had to admit to himself that he was thinking more of loosing the book and the film it probably contained to another fire than he was of Patricks' safety. He made a grab for the dash and the door as Actor jerked the car to the right forcing the jeep down into the ditch. Their wheels spun in the dirt and the back end fishtailed as the con man fought the heavy vehicle to a stop.

Garrison launched himself from the car, and raced across the road and down the incline to the jeep that was resting with its right hand tires mired in the mud. Grabbing the collar of the Captains' jacket he pulled him out of the seat, and backed up, hauling up onto the road where Actor and Goniff were waiting. "Goniff! Check the car, get everything out of it." Tossing the gun he'd taken from Crossman to his second he stood looking down at the man that lay on the road at his feet and struggled to catch his breath. "The book, where is it?"

Patrick stared up at him from the road. "I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. And even if I did I wouldn't tell you a damn thing, you traitorous Kraut bastard!" He eyes narrowed with hatred. "I knew I'd get you. I knew you were no good way back when I first found out about your family!"

Garrison dropped onto his knees on the road and grabbed Patrick by the front of his jacket. "You don't know anything about a book Virgil?! Alright! Then I'll tell you about it. It's small, fits in the palm of your hand, and slides right into your pocket. Old too. Bound in leather, with those fancy heavy papers on the inside of the covers... It's not the first one you've carried up to London either, it's the third. First one you got after you'd been hurt on one of the missions you flew. That guy at the hospital, Barton, he gave it to you. He told you he could get you into a big game up there if you wanted… and you wanted you greedy bastard. When you got back he told you he could get you in again, any time you wanted. You hit it big up there didn't you Patrick? You wanted to go back alright, so when your weekend pass came up you looked him up again, and he set you right up, and you went up again."

Goniff had come back up onto the road and was looking through the small leather bag he'd found jammed under the front seat. "I got it." Moving up behind Garrison he held the book out.

Actor covered the man when Garrison released him and turned to take the small volume from the little thief. He turned it over in his hands, thumbed through the pages and caught up the slip of paper that fell out on the road. The number to call; he put that away in his breast pocket. Running his fingers lightly over the books' leather binding he searched it, feeling for any sign that something was hidden under the leather. Flipping the cover back he started the same examination of the inside and was rewarded with the discovery of a loose section at the edge of the back cover, and a long, narrow, barely noticeable lump under the marbleized paper. Garrison sat back on his heels in the road and took a deep breath "Barton's a spy Virgil." he said quietly. "He used you to move information off the base in that second book. And he's using you again, to send this out." Patrick had pushed himself up and he was sitting in the road, Garrison handed the book to him, and showed him what he'd found. Reaching up to let Goniff help him to his feet he turned his back on Captain Virgil Patrick. He was a bastard and an idiot, but he wasn't a spy or a traitor. "We need to get this and the film we took up to Reynolds. Actor, you still feel like playing race car driver?"

"Of course." Ignoring Goniffs' moan of protest he gestured towards the officer who still sat in the road staring off into the darkness and asked. "What do we do with him?"

Garrison sighed and turned back to look down at Patrick. "Well, I guess we better move him off to the side of the road so he doesn't get run over." Grabbing the collar of the fliers jacket again he pulled him over to the edge of the road. Bending down he relieved the man of the book he still held in his hands. "You won't mind walking back, will you Virg?" Sliding the book into his pocket he walked to the car and settled into the back and waited for the others to get in.

ggg

It had been a very long day, they didn't get back on base until after dinner and they came through together. Reynolds called and said they were on their way, and Husoe left word at the gate that they'd be coming. He'd also left instructions for Garrison that he could 'collect his men in the Colonels' office.'

The first thing the Warden saw as they stepped through the door to the CO's office was his scout and wheel man resting on the couch in the corner, his left arm supported by a sling. "Chief! What happened to you?" Moving over he eased himself down beside his injured man.

"Aw that coyote Barton ran for it." Chief shrugged his good shoulder and let it drop. "It's nothin'. Casino and I had to run him down, and I tripped and fell wrong. Dislocated it. The doc's put it right again. It's nothin'" He caught the look of alarm that flashed in his commanders eyes. "S'OK Warden. We got him."

Casino was lounging in one of the chairs that sat in front of the Colonels' desk, sipping at some of his Norwegian rot gut. "That guy might not be able to avoid bein' noticed from now on." Raising the glass to his lips he smiled over the rim at them. To their questioning gaze he answered. "It was an accident! I slipped when I got hold of him and sort a scrunched his head into the runway. His nose sort a got smeared across his face a little."

When the man took the next sip from his glass the Warden noticed the bandages that encircled the knuckles of his right hand. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "The runway smeared his nose, did it, Casino?"

"Well, sure. You don't think I'd lie to ya about somethin' like that? Do ya Warden?"

Rattling glasses out of the cabinet and pouring a measure for each of the new comers Husoe turned on Garrison, watching as he took a sip and leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch. "I'm going to do a little nose smearing of my own if someone doesn't tell me the other end of this fairy tale. Patrick came limping in here about lunch time and spilled his guts to me. I've just been waiting around to get the rest of the story." After handing the glasses around to the others he settled himself comfortably into the chair behind his desk. "I got two MP's on that door out there says nobody's going anywhere until I get all of it. So you might as well just start talking."

Goniff made it to the bottom of his glass and at a nod from the Colonel moved over for a refill. Actor, after taking an experimental sip, was trying to decided on a way of inconspicuously dumping the remainder. It reminded him of the fuel Casino had distilled for them in Yugoslavia. It took him a moment to realize that Husoe was still waiting for his explanation. The con man shot a look towards the couch and spotted Garrison, gently snoring there, asleep, so he took up their tale from the time they'd left Patrick sitting at the side of the road. "While they were modifying the test results and getting it on film, the book was steamed open and Bartons' film removed. It wasn't more than an hour before we were ready to move."

"Didn't they know the wrong guy was bringing that book? Weren't they expecting Patrick?" Husoe asked over his drink.

"That was the flaw in Barton's plan." The elegant confidence man smiled at Husoe. "Apparently he never told them anything about the man that he was sending up. When the Lieutenant arrived at the door they let him right in."

"But you couldn't have known that until after you got up there, and he got in and out without getting himself shot." The Colonels' eyebrows climbed into his hair. "You know, I think all you boys in Special Forces must be a little bit crazy."

Garrison roused to the sound of quiet laughter around him. Scrubbing at his face with his hands he sat forward on the couch, shrugged an apology across the room at Husoe, and followed it with a yawn.

"Reynolds gonna leave that place open, Warden?" Chief and Casino had debated the possibility of Intelligence using the game to feed more doctored information to the Germans.

"No. They watched the place and tracked the guy on the door to a man at the docks. They waited to make sure our information got out, then they rounded everybody up and shut it down." Garrison yawned again, ground the heels of his hands into his eyes and gave a quick shake to his head, trying to wake up. "I guess they figured if word got out that we had Barton they might think the stuff was doctored. This way the whole operation disappears. They might not know for weeks that they won't be getting anything more from him."

"What about the guy at the docks? Isn't he what you'd call a loose end?" Husoe again, seeing to the details."

"Bloke had 'imself a fishing boat. You know we get back and forth across the channel like that sometimes," Heading for the cabinet with the bottle again the little man turned to stare at his teammates. 'But I never gave much thought to the Jerries doing the same. Reynolds said they'd let him go over and hand the stuff off, but there'd be a whole line of patrol boats waitin' for him when he tried to get back over here on our side." Goniff tipped another dose of the Colonels' liquor into his glass and shivered has he swallowed it down. "Still gives me the willies to think about it."

"How can you be sure other groups aren't using this same little dodge to get stuff out to the Germans?"

Garrison stretched and winced, rubbing at his side. "We can't. Reynolds has had the place watched since I went up there the first time. They followed them when the game changed location. There were two other guys who brought books to the door. He had them picked up when they came out, and checked them out, found out who'd set them up" Nodding across the office to the Colonel. "As soon as he heard from you, and knew we were moving on Barton, he had the others picked up too. Goniff put the word around to the people he knows in London. The guy running that game didn't know anything about it. He didn't know anything about the guy on the door, or the books…"

"And he was right buggered off when Colonel Reynolds and the Warden explained it all to him too! They all know what kind of con to look for now. That one's not gonna work again. Jerry'll have to find some other way."

"You mean they'r gonna cooperate with the cops?!" Casino had been leaning back in his chair, balancing it on its back legs, and it came down with a loud crack as he sat forward.

"Blimey! D'you think they'r nuts! A 'course not! But the guys that work with Reynolds,,, They don't mind if a bloke makes an honest living running cards, or numbers or such. They won't mind reportin' to them."

Pushing to his feet and reaching back to give Chief a hand up Garrison turned back to Husoe. "Colonel, if you've got all of your questions answered we'd better head out of here."

"I could arrange quarters for all of you on base here. Give you one full night of safe, uninterrupted sleep."

"No offense Colonel, but I think our base is a little more secure." The Warden reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I need to talk to you about that, sir."

"Now Lieutenant. You don't think I didn't know about that hole you guys cut in my fence, do you?"

"But…. " Looking into the older officers broad smiling face he shook his head and asked. "When'd you first suspect me?"

"About the same time you walked onto the base. I'm ashamed to say it but Patrick's little tirade made me look twice at you, what with that pitiful excuse for a duty assignment they handed you."

So he hadn't imagined being followed back to his quarters. He wondered if all of his shadows had been keeping track of him for Patrick, or if Husoe had his own men tagging after him. "When'd you change your mind?"

"Oh, almost the same second. I figured any spy worth his salt would be able to come up with a better story than that! And then when you took over that gun up there… Well, I didn't figure you'd be such a quick study if you'd been shooting at your own side." As they stood and shook hands he continued. "You know Lieutenant, if you ever decide to give up those blisters you'd probably make a pretty good addition to a bomber crew, and you already know how to fly."

"No thanks, Colonel!" Garrison laughed "Casino's right. I think all you guys are a little bit crazy."

ggg

"Who's gonna drive? I'm beat." The safecracker looked innocently around the group as they gathered in front of Husoes' command center and yawned. Waving his hand towards the Indian he said reasonably "Well, he always drives."

"I'll do it." Goniff shouldered past Casino and jabbed a finger in Actor's direction. "That one'll kill ya'. He drives like a maniac! 'sides I never get to drive." He helped Chief into the riders seat up front and waited as the Warden climbed into the back.

Casino settled on the back seat between the Warden and Actor, leaning forward he rested his arms on the top of the front seat. "That's 'cause we can't trust you to end up on the right side of the road!"

"Hey! I'm a good driver. I'm just out a practice, is all." Goniff asserted as he slid behind the wheel and started the car jerking on it's way, the gears protesting his mismanagement of the clutch.

"You'r just lousy, is all! See that!" Casino reached forward and punched Goniff in the shoulder. "You almost hit that! Pull over to the side you dumb Limey. You don't get to take your half out a the middle ya know!"

Garrison was leaning back in the corner with his eyes closed. "Casino!"

"Yeah, Warden, what is it?"

"You know that firing squad you've been worried about?"

"Yeah?" The safecracker's eyes widened slightly, and he turned his head to look at his leader.

"If you don't shut up so I can get some sleep back here," The Warden continued quietly, his eyes still closed, "I'm ordering Goniff to stop this thing and I'm going to form myself into a firing squad of one!"

Casino thought better of the comment that was on the tip of his tongue as Goniff ground the gears again. He'd seen the Warden with a gun,,, the guy never missed! The safecracker leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest and glared out the window in front of him.

Goniff watched Casino huffing to himself in the mirror and sniggered. "Hey, Warden?"

"Shut up and drive Goniff." The Lieutenant frowned, brows lowering over still shuttered eyes.

"But that game up there." The cockney persisted, refusing to take the hint. "How much d'you take 'em for then?"

One eye opened and fixed on the cat burglar's image in the rear view mirror. "Goniff," he said reasonably, "you could be standing right next to Casino…."

Ah, finally, he thought,, Silence.

Garrison burrowed down into the corner and prepared to go to sleep. He turned onto his right side, frowning as he had to shift his position to avoid resting on a rather sizable roll of bills he'd jammed deep in his pocket.


End file.
